Give Unto Me
by Kittenshift17
Summary: The Ministry is offering rewards for having children. They've got a list of unconventional pairings and their willing to give certain people the thing they want most. When Ron overreacts to the idea of Hermione being paired with Mafloy and does something stupid, Hermione's life is set on a new path. One that involves having a baby with Draco Malfoy.
1. 1: Incentivising Insemination

**A/N: Hey everyone. I couldn't resist this trope any longer. I hope you like the direction I take it. **

**Warnings:** **This fic will contain triggers, some swearing, scenes of a sexual nature and some dubcon moments. If that's not your cup of tea, this one's not for you.**

* * *

 **Give Unto Me**

 _Chapter 1: Incentivising Insemination_

"Have you seen the Prophet this morning Hermione?" Harry asked of her when Hermione Granger made her way into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, her feet clad in their bright pink bunny slippers and her hand covering her mouth on a yawn.

"I just got up, Harry," Hermione laughed at the notion, causing Harry to blush.

"It's disgusting," Ron raged over his breakfast, furiously stuffing hunks of sausage into his mouth and looking half-crazed, his red hair standing in a rumpled mess and his blue eyes wide and angry.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, glancing at Harry who came over looking rather fraught and a little disgusted to hand her the paper before making himself and Hermione a cup of tea.

Hermione smiled at him in thanks as she accepted the paper and reached for some toast. She, Harry and Ron had spent the summer in the aftermath of the Final Battle living at Grimmauld Place, waiting on the time when they would be able to return to Hogwarts to complete their final year of education. The Ministry and Headmistress McGonagall had granted everyone who had suffered through the year of Voldemort's control over Hogwarts the opportunity to repeat the year as it should've been studied. Hermione wondered how they intended to deal with having a flood of new first years coming in and sticking them in classes alongside last year's repeating first years. The class sizes would be huge. But that wasn't really Hermione's problem. The fact was they were repeating their seventh year.

As such, they were returning to Hogwarts in September.

"More stories about known Death Eaters weaselling their way out of Azkaban and claiming the influence of the Imperius curse?" Hermione asked Harry, unable to even look at Ron when he was exhibiting such disgusting manners. She had to check. More than once since the Final Battle she'd begun reading the paper only to be caught unawares by some horrid and ridiculous story that made her blood boil. Just last week there had been an exposé on the life and death of Remus Lupin, riddled with inaccuracies about his allegiances during the war.

She, Harry and Ron had grown so angry with the report that they had stormed the Prophet office in Diagon Alley and had demanded that they run a re-write apologising to the friends and family who had survived Remus for their pain and to ensure the truth about the werewolf was known by the world. Hermione tried not to think too hard about how she'd hexed several unhelpful assistants, secretaries and reporters who had tried to interfere with their mission to speak with the editor of the paper, demanding stories and snapping photos of the trio whilst enraged.

"Not this time," Harry said grimly, "It's worse."

"Am I going to accidentally set something on fire again?" Hermione asked seriously. That particular incident had been a result of an article by Rita Skeeter, who was once again at large and printing lies, that had attempted to romanticize the war.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Harry admitted, "Just read it."

Sighing to herself and making sure to take a deep, calming breath, Hermione focused on the front page of the newspaper and felt her stomach turn immediately when she saw the headline.

 _ **Incentivising Insemination**_

 _ **Early yesterday morning reporters of the Daily Prophet were approached by the Ministry of Magic in regard to a delicate matter indeed. It seems that as a result of the wars, the decrease in the population of magical folk within wizarding Britain has become a problem. With the number of births not yet increasing despite the end to the war, the Ministry has instigated an insidious offer to incentivise young witches and wizards to contribute to replenishing the population.**_

 _ **According to the Ministry, there has been put into effect an incentive to encourage witches and wizards to begin reproducing, offering highly coveted rewards to anyone of age, in accordance with their guidelines, if they consent to becoming parents.**_

 _ **That's right folks. The Ministry wants to bribe you into having babies.**_

 _ **As if this notion wasn't insulting enough, the Ministry wants not only to bribe people into parenthood via a Five Thousand Galleon bonus at the time of birth for each couple; they also want to stipulate who you play parent with in order to receive additional personalized rewards for doing so.**_

 _ **You read that right. They want to tell you who to breed with!**_

 _ **According to Ministry representatives there is a list of approved matches that the Ministry will bend over backwards to accommodate, should both parties consent to reproducing with one another.**_

 _ **Full details of what one must do to be eligible to receive the incentives for each party on the List of Matches have not yet been disclosed, however, it is confirmed that the Ministry is willing to offer these folks whatever they might want in return for their cooperation. It is however, a requirement that the reproduction take place between each stipulated pairing in order for either party to collect their reward. It's not simply enough to go out and shag just anyone. A Ministry representative has confirmed that there is a contract in place regarding each Match, the terms of which must be met should each party wish to partake in the program.**_

 _ **In addition to that they want to start with the repeating 7**_ _ **th**_ _ **year students of Hogwarts. Rumours suggest that students will be specially accommodated and the school will be fantastically reimbursed to allow the pregnancy of students seventeen years and older and in fact, to encourage it. Headmistress McGonagall was unable to be reached for comment on the situation, however, members from the Board of Governors for the school have confirmed there have been several new additions to the school during the rebuilding following the Final Battle.**_

 _ **Such accommodations suggest that the contracts in place require each match to be coupled up even whilst at school for the term of each pregnancy. One can only imagine the potential for abuse, but then, if the students are already expected to be getting pregnant, what worse things could they get up to? Parents everywhere must now live in fear of the school fostering the idea of their babies being pregnant before Graduating. Merlin only knows that this reporter's parents would have been furious at such a notion.**_

 _ **Ministry representatives have provided the Daily Prophet with a detailed list of Approved Matches in order for anyone interested to begin looking into their incentivised insemination, which can be found on Page 2. Persons on the approved list are urged to contact the Ministry for further details of what they are being offered as an incentive and how to go about getting their contracts in order.**_

Hermione stared at the paper for a moment in disgust.

"Have either of you had a chance to look at this list of approved matches they're talking about?" she asked both boys, who sat eating and watching her read the article, waiting for her reaction.

"Why do you think Ron's so cranky?" Harry asked darkly, waving his hand and indicating that Hermione ought to flip to page 2 and continue reading the rest of the reason that her two best friends looked so horrified and cranky this morning.

"Be warned," Harry said, reaching out and stopping her for a moment before she could focus on the list of pairings that took up the entire second page of the paper, "You're not going to like it, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, holding Harry's green gaze for a moment before turning her attention once more to the list.

 **Anastasia Candlewurst and Nicholas Worthington**

 **Angelina Johnson and George Weasley**

 **Arabella Dontes and Michael Corner**

 **Astoria Greengrass and Harry Potter**

 **Charlotte Pennington and Terry Boot**

 **Edwina Appleby and Seamus Finnigan**

 **Ginevra Weasley and Blaise Zabini**

 **Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan**

 **Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy**

 **Jessica Frankfurt and Charles Weasley**

 **Luna Lovegood and Rolf Scamander**

 **Padma Patil and Theodore Nott**

 **Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley**

 **Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas**

 **Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletcherly**

 **Tiffany Entwhistle and Gregory Goyle**

 **Tracy Davies and Neville Longbottom**

Hermione stared at the list in utter horror, skimming over her own name for the time being as she searched for those of her closest friends. She felt sick to her stomach at the very idea of seeing her name published in the newspaper next to that of Draco Malfoy and at the idea that so many of her friends were paired with people they would never willingly choose to spend any significant amount of time with. The only exceptions she could see were Angelina and George's match, in addition to Susan Bones being paired with Justin Finch-Fletcherly and perhaps Hannah Abbott being paired with Ernie MacMillan.

The rest of the names on the list were nothing but a blur to Hermione as she tried to comprehend this new information. It just didn't make sense. Why would the Ministry want to bribe anyone, especially people matched this way, into having children with one another?

"Is this some sort of joke?" Hermione asked, lifting her eyes to those of Harry, choosing for the time being not to even look at Ron. She didn't doubt that the reason he was so furious had entirely to do with the notion of her being paired with Malfoy. Not that being paired with Parkinson would be any less appealing to him than Hermione's match was to her.

"I don't think so," Harry answered, "From what I can tell the article is correct. I mean, it's by some woman name Margret Duboir not Rita Skeeter, so I assume it's true. Isn't it disgusting?"

"It's awful," Hermione agreed, "I feel sick even just reading it. What could the Ministry possibly be thinking with this?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to find out," Harry answered, "What could they possibly have to offer all of us as an incentive to want to reproduce with such people?"

"It must be something they think we'll be unable to turn down," Hermione told him thoughtfully, "I don't imagine people like Malfoy are any more thrilled by the idea than we are and I can't ever see myself and him being civil to one another, let alone intimate enough to have a child together. What could they have to offer that would make either of us want to go for that?"

"I'll bet it's something you won't want to turn down," Ron said, his voice low and sinister sounding, causing Hermione to look over at him in concern. She'd never heard Ron sound so dark and unnerving. His expression was dark too and Hermione wondered what he thought they might have to offer them all that would have them go for the deal.

"I don't know," Harry hedged, "It would have to be something pretty sodding good for me to go for this idea."

"Oh, it'll be something good," Ron grumbled, looking moodily into the crackling kitchen fireplace.

"Why are you so angry Ron?" Hermione asked, frowning at him in confusion. Hermione didn't understand his mood. After all, it was one thing to be put out and disgusted by the notion of the Ministry offering to bribe people into having children. Especially people who didn't particularly like each other, but it wasn't something to be furious over. They weren't being forced to accept the deal. In fact they didn't even know the terms of the agreement.

"You'll do it," Ron told her without looking at her, causing Hermione to gasp in outrage and Harry to look annoyed, "You'll do it, Hermione. You'll end up agreeing to it, and so will Malfoy."

"And just what makes you so sure?" Hermione demanded, her own temper flaring at the very notion.

"What's the one thing you want but can't achieve?" Ron demanded right back, turning his angry blue eyes on her, "The one thing you've been trying to do since the war ended?"

Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and her heart began to race inside her chest. The one thing she'd been trying to get done since the war ended was to restore her parent's memories. She'd managed to locate them a little over a month ago, but she'd been completely unsuccessful at undoing the memory charms she'd done on them. They still had no idea who she was and were currently still living in Australia. If there was one thing the Ministry could offer her that might make her even consider letting Draco Malfoy knock her up, it was the promise of having the Ministry's best people working to restore her parents to her.

A knowing look passed over Ron's furious face.

"And what do you think those Ministry bastards are going to offer Malfoy to get him to go for it?" Harry asked, clearly coming to the same conclusion that Hermione and Ron had.

"They'll give you your parents back by restoring their memories," Ron said coldly, looking away from Hermione and Harry and back into the fireplace, "They'll give him his parents back by releasing them from Azkaban."

Dread and horror threatened to consume Hermione at the very idea.


	2. 2: Chaperoning Chaos

**Chapter 2: Chaperoning Chaos**

Hermione stared desolately at the fireplace of Grimmauld Place, unsure of what to do or what to say. She didn't doubt that Ron was correct in his guesses at what the ministry would offer them.

"What do you think they'll offer me then?" Harry asked after a prolonged silence as Hermione tried to think of something to say to Ron.

"Probably something like Auror training and some coveted position at the Ministry in that department. You know they were already sniffing around you, hoping you'd take the job now that most of the people left in the Ministry have been axed for their involvement during the War," Ron said, "I expect they'll offer me the same thing, probably with a whole lot of Galleons thrown in to sweeten the pot. Who knows, they might even offer us both places on professional quidditch teams or something. Some dream they know we've been chasing will be what they offer us. The ones that are hard to say no to."

"And Ginny?" Hermione asked him seriously.

"A Quidditch team position, for sure," Harry said dully, realising that his girlfriend was more than likely to go for that deal. She'd wanted to be a professional player since she'd been twelve years old.

"And you would go for that?" Hermione heard herself asking Ron, offended by the idea of him knocking up anyone as horrible as Parkinson for money or a job.

"You're going to let Malfoy knock you up," Ron shrugged, "Might as well make the most of the offer. What's two illegitimate children to us in the long run?"

Hermione felt sick.

"Since we don't know for sure what they're willing to offer us and whether or not we'd take that kind of deal, why don't we all go on down to the Ministry and find out what this is all about?" Harry suggested reasonably, clearly sensing a fight between his two best friends. "Even considering having kids is a huge responsibility, let alone thinking of doing so with people we've considered enemies most of our lives."

"I don't know what they're thinking to even suggest this ridiculous idea!" Hermione exclaimed, "It's totally barbaric and irresponsible! How do they think bringing children into the world via two people who hate each other is the answer to the population problem? Why not just offer everyone the five thousand Galleons if they have a child? A lot of people would go for that."

"Exactly," Harry nodded, "I bet me and Ginny would consider that. What do they think they're going to do with kids born of these crazy matches? Imagine it. Me trying to deal with the Greengrass family to see my kid if Astoria didn't want to let me. You having to take the kid from Parkinson to keep it safe and sane, Ron. Hermione…."

Harry trailed off, clearly too disturbed to even voice the horror that would ensue of trying to have Hermione and Malfoy share a child.

"Everything will be explained if we go to the Ministry," Hermione said decisively, "I'm sure they'll have thought of this type of thing. And we can find out just what they want to offer us."

"What does you suppose happens if someone wants to and they're match doesn't?" Harry asked as they all transfigured their clothing and headed for the exit.

"I don't think I want to know," Ron said, shuddering at the idea, "We're going to have to be careful with you Hermione."

"Why?" Hermione asked, staring at him as he took her hand.

"Because if for some reason they offer you something you refuse, I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to try and rape you and force you into having his kid."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He's not going to be any more for this notion that I am," Hermione told him, "He'd have to lower himself to the horror of shagging a Mudblood."

"Don't call yourself that," Harry and Ron both scolded before Hermione apparated them all to the Ministry of Magic.

~O~

It was chaos. Complete and utter chaos. There were people everywhere, waving copies of the Daily Prophet, shouting, reporters snapping photos of the chaos, interviewing others on their thoughts over the entire idea.

"Harry Potter!" Someone shouted, before several reporters converged on the trio, snapping pictures of them.

"If you could all get out of the way, we'd really appreciate it," Harry called when the reporters began shooting questions at all of them, "This issue needs to be sorted out and none of you are helping matters. In fact, if you're not here to meet with the Ministry about the articles because your name is on the list of Matches, I think we'd all appreciate it if you could sod off."

Hermione choked back a giggle at the affronted look on some of the reporter's faces to hear Harry's suggestion.

"Now, fools!" Ron snapped angrily when none of them move, causing many people to jump in surprise and more than half of them to disperse slowly, muttering in annoyance when they saw Ron pull his wand threateningly.

"They never quit," The red-head grumbled in annoyance as he glared after one who had demanded to know how he would feel raising Draco Malfoy's baby alongside Hermione. It was no secret to the wizarding world that Ron and Hermione were an item and Hermione could tell the reporter had touched a very sensitive nerve. Not that she liked the idea of Ron having a child with Pansy Parkinson any more than he liked the notion of her and Malfoy. Hermione bit her lip and looked away, torn between her disgust over the idea of getting anywhere near Malfoy, and her yearning to have her parents be once more in her life.

Fighting their way through the crowd, Hermione waited until they reached the help desk where some particularly harried reception staff were trying to sort everyone out. Climbing up on the desk, Hermione magnified her voice and addressed the crowd.

"If I could have everyone's attention?" she began, her amplified voice echoing in the chambers of the Ministry, "Those of you who have arrived here because your name is in the Prophet regarding these Insemination Incentives please move to the right hand side of the desk over here."

Hermione pointed where she wanted everyone to go, noticing almost everyone in the crowd moving that way.

"Anyone who works here at the Minsitry that is trying to reach their office beyond the crowd, please do so now, while we clear a path."

Approximately ten individuals did so, the crowd parting to let them all by.

"Is there anyone else here who has other matters regarding the Ministry today?" she asked and a few people raised their hands.

"Alright then, you," she pointed to one of the reception staff, a woman in a bright purple blazer with pink hair, "Would you be so kind as to deal with these lovely people."

The woman nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled to avoid the furious crowd of Matchees.

"And you," Hermione pointed to another woman behind the desk, this one with long dark hair pinned up in a smart bun, "Where do you want us all to gather to speak with someone about this matter. I assume most of us are here to find out what we're being offered?"

There was a roar of agreement from the crowd.

"Erm… the Representatives are already speaking with some people about it currently. They weren't expecting such a response so quickly…" the poor receptionist, whose name tag read "Linda" admitted, "We've been instructed not to let anyone through unless both parties for each match are present."

"Alright then," Hermione said, scowling at that, "No one gets through unless their designated partner for this matter is here. So if you do not know your partner by name or face, please move to the left. Those of you who do know your partner, please try to locate them in this mess. If they aren't here you will need to contact them. I'm sure the Ministry would be happy to allow you use of their owls to do so. Linda, do you have some nametags we can use for the people over here on the left who don't know their match so we can all go about locating one another?"

Linda handed her a roll of stick on tags and a quill.

"Everyone on the left, please come forwards, write your name on a tag and attached it to your robes so you can all find one another. Any of you who are still here because you're a reporter or some stickybeak, kindly sod off! There's no room here for you at the present time and you're in the way. Go on now."

Everyone set about doing what Hermione had instructed, some of the reporters looking frustrated but unwilling to speak up when Hermione levelled a glare in their direction.

"How are the Ministry dealing with this mess if both parties are in attendance?" Hermione asked Linda, removing her voice amplification to speak with the woman.

"They're seeing matches according to the listing in the Prophet, so alphabetically based on the woman's given name. Anyone not in attendance is passed over and told to contact their match before returning to try meeting with them again."

"How rude," Hermione sighed, frustrated with the Ministry already.

"It was the only thing they could think of when people started flooding in," Linda said, her cheeks pink.

"No matter," Hermione muttered, before amplifying her voice once more. "Your attention again, everyone! The Ministry is seeing people according to their alphabetical listing based on the female's first names, so ladies, please arrange yourselves in alphabetical order only if your listed match is in attendance. Anyone whose match is not here, please make your way to the Owlery. I'm sure the Ministry officials will be with all of us shortly."

"Hermione?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked in surprise, coming over to the desk when he spotted the way she'd begun to make order out of chaos.

Hermione herself barely noticed the Minister for Magic, having just spotted the white-blonde head of hair belonging to Draco Malfoy across the crowded Ministry hall. He was leaning against a statue of a sprite, his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle curled around the other. He was dressed in black robes and his grey eyes were fixed on her, his expression unreadable as he watched her.

"Minister?" Hermione asked when she undid the amplifying spell on her voice and climbed back down from the desk.

"That was well handled," Kingsley commented, grinning at her.

"Someone had to do something, it was chaos," Hermione shrugged noticing that Harry had found Astoria Greengrass in the crowd and was standing awkwardly beside the blonde young woman who looked a little baffled by the whole situation.

"You'd do well if you accepted a position at the Ministry, you know," Kingsley told her.

"I have a final year of education to complete first. And a ridiculous notion of being bribed into mothering to deal with. Tell me you didn't sign off on this idea Kingsley?" Hermione asked, slipping into old habits and calling the Auror turned Minister for Magic by his first name.

"I did, actually," he told her quietly, "I instigated the idea of allowing everyone the chance to receive a 'Baby Bonus' in the form of five thousand Galleons per child should anyone begin reproducing outside these extra incentives, however the Board insisted on these extra matches being put into place with additional incentives in place to attempt to get people to breed."

"Whatever for?" Hermione demanded, "Surely you don't think people like Draco Malfoy would be a good father at all, let alone to my child?"

"It was not about that, Hermione," Kingsley sighed, "The fact of the matter is that many of these matches were chosen based on blood status and affiliation during the war. The Board thinks this is the perfect plan to circumvent another war. A pureblood like Malfoy is less likely to start another uprising against muggleborns if the mother of his child is a muggleborn."

Hermione could see the logic in that. Not that she had to like it.

"And in order to achieve this you think he's going to want to shag me, and vice versa?" Hermione asked seriously, causing Kingsley to sigh heavily.

"Therein lies the problem with the plan. I tried to tell the Board that most people on this list wouldn't consent to shagging one another for all the bribes in the world, but they seem to think otherwise."

"Unfortunately, they might be right," Hermione sighed in agreement, "If they're offering me what I think they are, I will probably seriously consider it."

"Yes," Kinsgely agreed, "That's what the Board is hoping."

"Do you have any idea how they plan to deal with the fallout when people do go through with this and then realise that they will either be raising illegitimate children out of wedlock, and contributing to the type of reckless parenting that leads to emotional distress in kids? How do you think these kids are going to feel when they learn that the only reason they exist is because the Ministry bribed their biological parents to look past their distaste for each other? What happens when people within each match end up in a battle for custody as the kid grows?"

"Why didn't I think to invite you to the meetings before this nonsense was passed?" Kingsley asked, looking frustrated. Hermione felt her hopes plummet, realising that the idiots had simply put forward the notion of overcoming blood status discrepancies by breeding half-bloods from everyone.

This was going to get terribly messy.

"I'd be happy to attend any follow up meetings to make sure they think of everything. I doubt they've considered the idea of one party being for it and one against it. What happens if say, Malfoy wants to go through with this to collect his reward but I refuse? What happens if he then tries to force me into it?" Hermione asked of the Minister who was looking increasingly distressed.

"We did think of that one. It is stipulated in the meeting with each pairing that unless both consent, neither party will receive anything. That's why they're refusing to meet with anyone unless both parties are in attendance," Kingsley explained, looking a little relieved that they at least had thought of that much.

"Well I suppose that's something. You realise you're going to have an uprising on your hands, don't you Minister?" Hermione asked him.

"I expect I will, but we are prepared for that. After all, there is always the back-up plan to have everyone collect money for breeding if they can't stomach the idea of breeding with the person matched to them for extra rewards," Kingsely said, "I think I'd best be off, Hermione. I need to check some of these details…. Surely they'll have been smart enough to think of most of them."

Hermione watched the Minister for Magic walk away, frowning and rubbing his brow distractedly, ignoring others who called out for his attentions. Sighing heavily, Hermione began to make her way through the crowd, having no doubt that Malfoy would not have moved.

"Learn anything interesting?" Ron asked when Hermione found him in line standing beside a horrified looking Pansy Parkinson, who was pointedly ignoring Ron and studying her fingernails as though they were more interesting that her surroundings.

"I did actually. The Ministry is offering a five thousand Galleons 'baby bonus' to anyone who consents to having children within the next year or so, no matter who they breed with. The matches they've picked are designed with the intentions of dissolving blood mania and dispensing with old grievances that have carried over from the war via the method of giving each party a child in common. That's why they've paired me with Malfoy, because he's an elitist and I'm a muggleborn. They think there is less chance people like him will want to kill off muggleborns if those muggleborns are the parents of their child or children. The same goes for matches like you and Parkinson. You were notably with the Order for the Light while her family were affiliated with Voldemort and she notably wanted to hand Harry over to Voldemort. By putting you two together and asking you to have a kid, you'll have the kid in common and are less likely to go to war with one another over blood mania or any grudges anyone might be holding."

"Do they really think that's going to work?" Parkinson demanded, showing she was listening despite her attention being fixed on her nails.

"It's a valid notion, as far as logic goes," Hermione sighed, "Though Kingsley didn't inspire much confidence regarding what they plan to do once we all start popping out kids and fighting over who gets to raise it…."

"This whole idea is rubbish," Pansy whined.

"Why are you here then?" Hermione asked the pug-nosed girl, "What can the Ministry give you that might convince you to have a kid with Ron?"

"That's private, Granger," Parkinson sneered.

"Not for long. You'll go in there with Ron and will both be told what the other will be offered in return for having a kid together. And when you come out Ron will tell me anyway…"

Parkinson sighed.

"They threw my Father in Azkaban for providing monetary contributions towards You-Know-Who's cause, even though he never took the mark or anything. Since he was the one who earned the money for my family, my mother is a wreck without him. She's been despondent for weeks. If I can get him out of Azkaban I'll…. Well," she glanced at Ron who stared stoically back.

"You'd look past your dislike for Ron," Hermione nodded, sighing heavily again.

Ron's eyes tightened at that and Hermione slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. She felt her heart begin to plummet when he didn't return the affection and instead pulled his hand away.

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked her bluntly and Hermione knew that he believed one hundred percent that Hermione would shag Malfoy and have his kid if she could have her parents back.

"Over by the Sprite statue," Hermione pointed through the crowd to where the blonde haired ex-Death Eater was still leaning and still watching her.

"Your name will probably be called soon Granger," Parkinson inserted when Ron didn't say anything else but proceeded to glare across the room at Malfoy, "They were up to the E's a few minutes ago."

Nodding her head, Hermione took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and began making her way through the crowd towards Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 **A/N: A Huge thank you to those of you who read and reviewed. Much love to all of you. Though please note that this is NOT a Marriage Law trope fic. This one is only about them being offered lots of exciting things to have babies together, not to get married or anything. xx-Kitten.**


	3. 3: Match Making

**Chapter 3: Match Making**

He watched her every move as she closed the distance between them, Hermione noticed, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle and stand on end under his scrutiny. She didn't feel comfortable in his gaze and she was a little unnerved by the way he just kept right on staring at her.

"Malfoy," she greeted him with a nod when she stood a little over a meter away from where he was still leaning on the statue.

"Granger," he replied in a voice that was neither hostile nor welcoming.

"We should join the line," Hermione told him, seriously, "They're calling girls whose first name starts with 'F' right now, so it won't be long before they call me."

"What did the Minister have to say?" he asked rather than moving.

"That they've got other incentives in place for anyone who has a kid, though to a lesser extent if it's not with their proposed match. And that unless both parties consent, neither gets anything," Hermione answered, staring at him and unsure why he was being so familiar. It was unnerving to have him asking her questions like she was just any old person.

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy?" a wizard's amplified voice called, indicating that they were both about to find out a lot more.

"Here," Hermione shouted back when Malfoy didn't say anything as he pushed away from the statue.

"Excellent, right this way, if you please and we'll see what we can work out, eh?" the wizard said cheerily, disabling his amplifying charm and shuffling off down the hall. Hermione studied him from behind in an attempt to keep from thinking about having Draco Malfoy walking along behind her. The wizard was short and round, with a mop of brown hair on his head. His robes were rumpled at the back and his hair slightly mussed, as though he'd been running his hands through it in frustration.

"Are you on the Board that approved this idea?" Hermione asked him as he led her and Malfoy into a small office and waved his hands towards the pair of chairs in front of his desk.

"I am indeed, Miss Granger. My name is Barnabus Cuttleworth and I'm on the Advisory Board to the Minister."

"So you're one of the idiots who thought it would be a wise idea to dispense with blood mania by pairing known rivals?" Malfoy asked rudely, dropping into the seat next to Hermione and staring at the small wizard with loathing.

"You think it will be ineffective?" Barnabus Cuttleworth asked, not looking at all put out by Malfoy's furious tone.

"I think you're all barmy," Malfoy retorted.

"Be that as it may, we have an offer for the two of you. Should you choose to enter into our Agreement, you will both be compensated for your contribution to the Wizarding Population, as long as you keep to the terms of the contract," Barnabus began.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, one foot jiggling in irritation at his chipper tone. Beside her Malfoy was glaring at the wizard.

"Do share these terms, Mr Cuttleworth," Hermione prompted when the man began to eye them both, looking a little nervous, "By all means, please tell me what you think I'll want in return for shagging Malfoy and having his kid."

Barnabus cleared his throat, looking rather nervous indeed when he picked up in the veiled hostility in Hermione's tone. Hermione wondered if the man was aware of the great dislike that existed between herself and Malfoy.

"Well now… As you rightly state, your end of the bargain does consist of the two of you partaking in intercourse and conceiving life," Barnabus told them, clearing his throat again, "In addition to that, the two of you would be require to share living quarters for the length of the pregnancy. Since you are both returning to Hogwarts this year, you would be required to take residence in one of the new additions to the castle that the Ministry has built for this purpose, allowing the two of you to live together."

"You expect us to live together?" Malfoy scoffed, "Harmoniously?"

"We do indeed. You would be required to share quarters and a bed for the duration of Miss Granger's pregnancy. This is required in order to foster a functioning respect for one another and in order to ensure you can effectively work together, as two people must when raising children. In addition to that you must meet a list of requirements, as per these guidelines," he paused to pass them both a pamphlet with a list of tasks they must complete together, "This involves the planning of how things will work when the baby arrives and other such details."

"And in return for this preposterousness?" Hermione asked, feeling a little queasy at the very idea of sharing a dwelling and a bed with Draco Malfoy for any length of time.

"Ah yes. You are incentivised to do so. Now, Mr Malfoy, I believe that your parents are currently in Azkaban prison for harbouring You-Know-Who in your place of residence, in addition to aiding and abetting in the kidnap of several people and creatures, and the murder of several more. Is that correct?" Cuttleworth asked Malfoy, whose jaw began to tick with anger and whose hands clenched into fists.

"It is," Malfoy replied curtly, his voice resonating his anger.

"In return for fathering a child with Miss Granger and providing for that child into adulthood, the Ministry is willing to allow your parents to be released from Azkaban Prison in favour of living out the remainder of their sentences within the walls of Malfoy Manor, where they would be required to check in on a weekly basis with a Ministry official. Rather than continuing to live in cells in Azkaban they could return to the familiarity and comfort of their home. I've been asked to pass these onto you," Barnabus said, handing Malfoy a handful of pictures and reports detailing the health and sanity of both of his parents.

Hermione caught sight of one of Narcissa Malfoy, her usually prim and tamed hair wild with curls Hermione hadn't expected that showed the woman bore more resemblance to Bellatrix than Hermione had thought. She was dressed in the ragged uniform of all Azkaban Prisoners, black and white stripped jumpsuits far too thin to contribute to keeping the prisoners warm. Her pinched face bore an expression of manic distraction, the animation of the photograph displaying the woman looking over her shoulders and around her cell fearfully as though she was surrounded by demons only she could see. Her eyes were sunken and she looked ten years older than she had even during the Final Battle.

When he flipped to a picture of Lucius, Hermione caught the way Malfoy closed his eyes in horror at the sight of his father. The man's long blonde hair hung lank and greasy about his face. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked to have lost all sparks of life. His grey eyes were empty, lifeless and the man looked positively despondent. He sat against the wall of his cell, striped uniform soiled and ragged, hanging off his emaciated frame pitifully. There was no indication that he was aware of his surroundings at all. He simply sat and stared at something outside the picture. In fact he was so still that Hermione had to squint to ascertain it was even a magical photograph and not a muggle still-shot. She could only tell the difference because she could see the shallow breaths coming from the man in clouds of steam, indicating the temperature when the photo was taken was cold as best.

"Those are pictures taken of your parents three days ago in their cells. The reports detail their current level of overall physical and mental health, if you're interested," Barnabus said, and Hermione suspected the man was prodding Malfoy despite the way they blonde's hands had begun to shake, "Now, as I said. Should you agree to this contract, we will be happy to release your parents into the Wiltshire Manor and to provide them the care they desperately need."

Hermione felt the urge to hex the little man when Malfoy's hands clenched into fists once more, crushing the files he'd been given. He knew exactly how bad his choice of words were and he knew that the more he pushed, the more Malfoy would be inclined to sign the contract.

"Now then, Miss Granger," Cuttleworth said, turning his beady little eyes on Hermione a false smile curling on his lips, "We are of course willing to incentivise you into this contract as well, would you care to hear our terms?"

"I'm beginning to suspect that I have little choice in whether or not I hear your terms," Hermione replied coldly, "However, I will warn you now that if you continue to use such abrasive techniques to attempt to sway myself or Malfoy into agreeing to this contract, I will not hesitate to dedicate my fullest attention into seeing you and all on the Advisory Board brought to ruin. Is that clear?"

"There is no need for threats, Miss Granger," Cuttleworth said, though he paled considerably at the tone in her voice and the serious expression on her face.

"I would say the same thing to you, Mr Cuttleworth. And I find the notion of suggesting that unless Malfoy agrees to this contract, his parents will not receive medical care they obviously need, to be a threat," Hermione informed him icily.

"Not at all my dear, it is simply a statement of fact. As prisoners in Azkaban for several severe crimes, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy are not currently eligible for any better treatment than two meals per day and a bucket within which to pass waste that is emptied once a week. These are the only requirements regarding the health and wellbeing of criminals. Whether they require more or not is no concern of the Ministry's."

"You ought to be very careful about what you say, Cuttleworth," Malfoy's voice was low and far deadlier than Hermione's had been. Cuttleworth paled further and Hermione felt goosepimples of unease prickle along her skin at his tone and his expression. She didn't doubt that Malfoy would kill for his parents.

"Well then," the man cleared his throat again, shuffling some papers on his desk, "Miss Granger, for your cooperation in this matter – meaning your consent to perform coital acts with Mr Malfoy with the intention of falling pregnant and carrying the baby to term – the Ministry is willing to dedicate several renowned Healers to work on undoing the Memory Modification charm you performed on your parents last year, allowing them to recall that you are their daughter in addition to bringing them back to Britain to provide continue care until they are returned to normal. These are for you."

The man handed Hermione a file filled with pictures taken of her parents going about the lives they were living in Australia. Strolling on a beach, working in their dental practice there. She felt her heart squeeze when she came across one of her mother and father sitting on a picnic blanket in a park. Her mother's gaze was focused on some children at the edge of the frame, a strange expression of longing on her face, as though she yearned for her own child – though she wasn't supposed to recall she had one – and perhaps even for grandchildren.

"In addition to these allowances, the Ministry is willing to offer each of you the sum of fifty thousand Galleons if you agree to the terms and agree to share the parenthood of a child," Cuttleworth told them both, staggering Hermione with the unexpectedly high sum.

"Why?" Hermione asked, sliding the pictures of her parents back into the file and focusing her attention of the Board member once more.

"Why?" Cuttleworth asked blankly.

"Yes, Mr Cuttleworth. Why? Why is the Ministry so interested in seeing this particular match come to fruition? I doubt you are offering such a lump sum of money to every pairing you've matched up for this crazy idea. I also doubt that the others will be offered such incentives. And I want to know why. I've spoken to the Minister, so I understand that many of the pairings are designed to overcome blood mania and old grudges, but I want to know why in particular you want this to occur between myself and Draco Malfoy."

Hermione eyed him across the desk, feeling Malfoy's eyes on her as though he wasn't sure what to make of her questioning.

Cuttleworth sighed.

"It has been determined that of all the people selected to participate in this experiment, the two of you are the most influential within the public eyes. You, Miss Granger, are a heroine of war, renowned for your brilliance regarding magic and your knowledge of well, everything. Similarly, Mr Malfoy, you are well-known as being a pureblood elitist with radical views on how those not of pure magical lineage should be treated, and you are considered a leader of sorts among your peers who share some of you views. As such, a pairing between the two of you goes a long way towards convincing the rest of the wizarding world that the horror of the War can be overcome. That known enemies can grow to be friends, lovers and parents together. By requiring a child in the mix, the experiment is safe-guarded against regression. It is unlikely that either of you will turn on the other when doing so would be emotionally harmful to your child."

He paused to allow them both a moment for that information to sink in and Hermione felt a growing sense of dread regarding the outcome of the Ministry's plan.

"As such, you are correct to assume you have been offered the highest incentive for your cooperation."

"And if we refuse?" Malfoy asked quietly.

"Then nothing changes. Your parents remain in Azkaban, hers remain unaware that they have an eighteen year old daughter. You both go about your lives as you always intended to do, dating whoever you choose, living as you see fit. And that is that."

"What are the precise terms of your contract?" Hermione asked, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper.

"This is a copy of the contract you would be required to sign," Cuttleworth handed over a legal document for her to read.

"Participate in sexual intercourse in the traditional way to achieve conception," Hermione read aloud.

"As opposed to what exactly?" Malfoy asked, looking alarmed.

"As opposed to test-tube babies cooked up in a lab and planted in my uterus," Hermione answered, glancing at him sideways and seeing his expression of horror as though he was picturing some made scientist laughing manically over a baby shaped monstrosity.

"Merlin…" He breathed as though he required strength to even continue with such images in his head.

"Share a dwelling and a bed for the length of the pregnancy. Contribute to the health and happiness of the other parent in any way possible. Provide love, care, and all material requirements to the child until he or she comes of age. Build at least a cordial friendship with the other parent of the child to effect harmonious parenting as the child grows."

"Basically be nice to each other from now on and raise a kid," Malfoy summarised.

"That is the general idea, yes."

"And what about everything else?" Hermione asked of both men currently in the room with her, "I mean, what happens when the kid is born? Does one of us raise it alone while the other has visitation rights? Do we fight over custody of the child? Does it traverse between two different homes? Forced to live the life of a broken-home kid as though we're both irresponsible and unable to cooperate? Forced to deal with being the half-sibling of any other children either of us might have with people we prefer over one another? Is it really ok to ask that we put a child through all that for the sake of a quick fix to latent war hostility and blood mania?"

"That is the beauty of parenting, Miss Granger," Cuttleworth told them both seriously, "If you agree to this, all of those questions fall to you. You will be responsible for the life you bring into this world. You will be responsible for the happiness and wellbeing of your child. It is up to the two of you to decide how you will raise him or her; to decide if you can build a relationship with one another that fosters a stable home environment for your child."

"I see what you're doing," Malfoy cut in suddenly, "You're trying to set us up as a couple by forcing us to face decisions about the child as a team. By having use live together until the kid is born, you're hoping we'll grow to fancy each other and that we'll want to raise the kid sharing a house, possibly ending up married."

"The Ministry is not forcing you to do anything, Mr Malfoy," Cuttleworth retorted, "You are not required to sign the contract. You are encouraged to, via personal incentive that will be afforded you should you choose to do so, but you by no means have to sign the document. If you prefer you can leave this room and never speak to one another again, fall in love with whomever you see fit and start a family with them; or perhaps follow some career of your choosing. There is nothing at play that demands you agree to the terms and undertake this experiment. We will not force you."

"But if I don't my parents to rot in Azkaban, slowly going out of their minds and withering away to nothing for the rest of their lives," Malfoy sneered, "As though that won't force my hand?"

"Ah, but therein lies the beauty, Mr Malfoy. Your parents are criminals are paying for their crimes. Without this offer they would remain in prison. If you choose not to accept. They remain in prison, just as they would've done without the offer. And as has been noted by the Prophet, these incentives are not bribes to get the two of you to have a child together. They are simply a reward if you choose to do so."

"How exactly do you expect this to work?" Hermione asked, before the men could continue arguing.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Granger?"

"Well, it's one thing to stipulate in your contract that we have to shag with the intent of knocking me up, but it's entirely another in practice. We don't fancy one another. We aren't attracted to each other. And I've found attraction is conducive to effective shagging. Imagine how awkward it would be," Hermione laughed with just a hint of hysteria beginning to set in as she glanced at Malfoy, "Imagine it. You and I locked in a bedroom, staring at each other, knowing it's supposed to happen but way too unsettled by the notion to achieve anything."

"She's got a point," Malfoy agreed, glancing back at Cuttleworth, "You're traditional ideas for conception only mean shagging right? I mean, I can get blind drunk first right?"

"As long as coitus takes place, you can do whatever is necessary for that to be so," Cuttleworth said and Hermione felt nausea when the man hid an amused smile, "Am I to assume by your questions that you are both considering the idea?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking away from the Ministry wizard and away from Malfoy. The truth was that she was considering it. As horrifying as it seemed and as nauseas as it made her feel, Hermione desperately wanted her parents back in her life. Some small part of her lamented that they would never want her to sacrifice her dignity and her morals for the sake of shagging a man she considered her enemy and allowing him to father her child. But the rest of her just yearned to have her Mum and Dad back. To breathe in the peppermint and warm leather scent of her father's embrace. To feel her mother's hands tucking stray curls behind her ears and asking her about her newest discoveries. To taste the biscuits her mother baked every October and taste the wine her father brewed every summer.

The loss of them in her life had affected her more profoundly than she had ever realised it would. Growing up having parents was something Hermione had taken for granted. She'd appreciated them, of course, but she had never realised how much they truly meant to her. She had never stopped to think about what life would be like without her mother's floral perfume and without her father's soft humming. About how it would feel to have Christmas and her birthday come and go without a warm hug and a happy smile. Without having those two people in her life who would love her no matter what she might do.

Tears burned in her eyes as Hermione thought of how much she missed them. The place beneath her breastbone ached with how much she yearned to see them again and have them know who she was and how much they meant to her. Pursing her lips, Hermione felt the first tear trickle from her eyes and down her cheek. Opening the file of pictures she'd been given of her parents she felt more tears well up in her eyes as she looked at the one of her mother's expression of yearning for the indescribable again.

She startled when she felt a cold touch against her hand and looked up quickly to see Draco Malfoy offering her a clean handkerchief. She stared at it for a moment, noticing that his initials were embroidered on one corner in silver silk. Hesitantly she took it from him and dabbed it at her eyes, catching the tears before anymore could trickle down her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered without meeting his gaze.

"How long do we have to decide what we want to do?" Malfoy asked Cuttleworth, both he and Hermione electing not to answer the idea about whether or not they were considering the deal.

"I can give you until August 31st to make your decision. We need to know before you return to Hogwarts for your final year, in order to properly house you at the school."

"Alright," Malfoy said, "I'm going to assume we can each have a copy of this contract to read over before we make a decision?"

"Of course, by all means, take one. Take your time to consider your options. We don't want any bad feelings from anyone over this. If you need time to think about it, take it. Discuss it with each other. It does effect both of you, after all," Cuttleworth said, handing them both a copy of the contract that they would be asked to sign in order to collect their incentives.

Hermione stared at Malfoy in concern when he held out his hand towards her the way one would to request a dance, offering to help her to her feet and escort her out of the room. She eyed him uncertainly, unsure what to do. After all, she was very seriously considering the deal being offered to the pair of them and it would require she do a lot more than take his hand. She would have to touch him, and allow him to touch her. She would be the mother of his first child. Transferring the file of photos, her copy of the contract and the handkerchief he'd given her to her other hand, Hermione hesitantly placed her hand in his and let him help her to her feet.

"We'll be in touch," Malfoy told Cuttleworth as he led Hermione from the room without letting go of her hand.

"Where are you taking me?" Hermione asked when she noticed the way he kept hold of her hand even as they approached the main entrance where most of the matches were still waiting to speak to someone about their deal.

"We need to discuss this deal Granger," Malfoy told her, "And since I doubt you're about to invite me into the house you share with Weasley and Potter I assume we will have to do so either at my house, or somewhere else."

"You think I'm going to let you drag me off to Malfoy Manor after what happened there?" Hermione asked him seriously, choosing for the time being to act like an adult rather than lashing out like a child and hoping he would do the same.

"Well if you don't want to go there, then where do you want to go to discuss this matter privately?" Malfoy demanded, glancing over at her. Hermione wondered if he felt as strange about holding her hand as she did about having him hold it.

"Somewhere that those bloody reporters won't find us," Hermione decided quickly, "I know a nice place in muggle London."

"Then lead the way," Malfoy instructed, surprising Hermione with his willingness to cooperate and to venture into muggle London with her. Glancing around the room, Hermione wondered if it would be ok for her to simply apparate.

She regretted the action immediately when her eyes clashed with the sight of Ron Weasley standing around alongside Pansy Parkinson waiting to speak to someone about their incentives. His blue eyes cut through her like ice and Hermione immediately regretted not having pulled her hand away from Malfoy.

Ron was going to think the worst. He was going to think that she'd already agreed and that she was about to go off and let him shag her until she was pregnant. Pansy Parkinson didn't look anymore thrilled about Hermione's hand inside Draco's than Ron did. Part of her wanted to go over and explain, to snatch her hand away from Malfoy and somehow wake from this nightmare. But she couldn't do any other those things. All she could do was glance at Malfoy to make sure he was ready to Apparate before she closed her eyes and turned on the spot, transporting them both away.


	4. 4: Discussing Details

**Chapter 4: Discussing Details**

Hermione landed with a 'pop' alongside Draco Malfoy in a side alley not far from St James's Park and led him out towards the park, intent on finding somewhere that sold cups of tea. She needed one desperately and she knew there were always vendors with little carts and stores that they set up selling tea and biscuits to tourists. She didn't speak to Malfoy until she located one, releasing his hand and letting him trail along behind her.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Hermione asked of the blonde haired boy.

"Black with one sugar, please," he asked politely, his attention on the passing muggles and the several squirrels that were foraging for nuts all over the park. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle when he raised one eyebrow at the sight of a squirrel that was trailing along behind another, stealing and eating all the nuts the first was trying to bury for winter.

"Two teas please," Hermione asked of the man in the little stall, smiling at him politely as she turned her attention back to the task at hand.

"Two quid," the muggle told her, taking the coins when Hermione handed over some muggle money. She chuckled to herself again when Malfoy looked slightly alarmed by the sight of her pulling muggle money out of her pocket the way he might pull out some Galleons and Sickles.

"You need to add your own sugar," Hermione told him, handing him a cup of black tea before she set about putting milk and two sugars in her own cup and fastening a lid to the cup with a little sipper hole. Malfoy tended to his own tea in silence. Hermione found the entire exchange completely unnerving and she had no idea what to make of his behaviour. She hadn't spoken to Malfoy before today for almost a year and a half, having not directly spoken to him in any capacity since they'd been in sixth year on the train home.

In fact, if she recalled correctly, the last conversation they'd had had consisted of him insulting her for her blood status once again and threatening that she, Harry and Ron would need to watch their backs over the summer.

"Do you want to walk and talk?" Hermione asked when he stood staring at her and sipping his tea, waiting to see what she would do. She felt uneasy being alone with him, even in public, and she didn't quite know where to begin.

When he made no protest, Hermione set off at a slow walk around the lake that dominated the park, taking in the sights of the muggles strolling through the park, many of them pointing and laughing at the behaviour of squirrels. Malfoy strolled along beside her in silence, seeming to be at as much of a loss as Hermione was regarding where to begin the discussion.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" he said finally when they'd walked halfway around the lake in total silence.

"I don't know that they're worth that much," Hermione admitted, watching a young mother stroll by pushing a baby-buggy and leading a dog.

"They've got to be more cheerful than mine," Malfoy argued quietly.

"You're thinking about your parents?" she asked softly, making her way over to one of the park benches and taking a seat where she could watch the ducks on the pond quack and squabble over the bread some muggles where feeding them.

Malfoy sat down next to her and nodded seriously, a frown creasing his brow.

"They looked unwell in those pictures," Hermione agreed quietly, "Even during the height of the war whilst completely stressed, your mother maintained her air of self-possession… to see her so paranoid must have been hard."

"I need to get them out of there, Granger," Malfoy told her in a low voice and Hermione could tell that he had been thinking about the entire idea.

"You think they would accept the idea of you buying their way out of Azkaban by breeding with a Mudblood?" Hermione asked him seriously, turning to watch his face, trying to read his thoughts from there. It was impossible of course. He was a skilled Occlumist and he'd had years of practice schooling his features to ensure he didn't give away his thoughts or emotions.

"You shouldn't call yourself that," he said, frowning a little and staring down at the cup clutched in his hands. He had tucked the file of his parent's pictures and his copy of the contract into the pocket of his robes, Hermione noticed.

"Why not?" Hermione asked him, "It's carved into my arm. And besides, I'm not ashamed of where I come from. I'm proud of who my parents are. I'm proud to be muggle-born."

Malfoy didn't say anything to that, though he did look up when Hermione's fingers went to the scar on her arm left there by Bellatrix LeStrange.

"You're not going to take the deal, are you?" he asked in a tight voice and Hermione knew her words had worried him.

"You didn't answer my question. Even if I do take the deal, do you think your parents will forgive you for siring your firstborn with a mudblood? Do you think they'll thank you for their freedom when they know the price you're willing to pay to buy it?" Hermione countered rather than answering the question.

The truth was, she didn't know what she was going to do. On the one hand it was entirely desirable to her to have her parents back, and Hermione didn't doubt that they would embrace the idea of having a grandchild, even if they would likely think she was too young to be having children just yet. On the other hand, she was in no way attracted to Draco Malfoy and the idea of having a child fathered by him was repugnant to her. She didn't even know if she would be able to bring herself to sleep with him in order to conceive the child, let alone to raise a bundle of joy with him.

"I think that if I don't get them out of Azkaban neither of them will possess the presence of mind to care one way or the other what I do with my life," Malfoy answered and Hermione knew an evasion when she saw one.

"That's true, if they stay there neither of your parents are likely to know who you are or even who they are. Your father looked despondent in the photographs. But if you do get them out by having a child with me, how will they react? It's no secret that they believe very strongly in the notion of Purebloods breeding with Purebloods. They wouldn't like the idea of having a half-blood grandchild, Malfoy. Which would mean one of two things. Either they would begrudgingly acknowledge the child but consider him or her to be second-rate compared to any other children you might sire with a proper pureblood woman, as is expected of you. Or they would refuse to acknowledge the child and pressure you into having nothing to do with the child, leaving me screwed over to raise your kid alone," Hermione said seriously.

"So either the kid would live a life feeling as though they didn't matter to you or your family and feeling like they didn't deserve the name Malfoy, or they would grow up fatherless. How is that in any way cohesive towards giving a child a well-rounded and happy life?" Hermione continued when Malfoy looked like he was all too aware that she was telling the truth.

"If it gets them out of Azkaban, I suspect my parents would learn to accept any child of mine. Even if you were its mother," Malfoy countered after another long silence, "And while you probably don't believe it, family is important to me. I wouldn't just abandon the kid."

"Would you try to take him or her away from me? To prevent me from seeing my own child?" Hermione asked him, "I wouldn't allow you to do so, Malfoy. I've seen how being raised in Malfoy Manor turned out for you. I wouldn't allow my child to end up like you."

"Like me?" Malfoy demanded, looking up at her with a hard glare for that particular comment.

"You're forgetting that I've known you since you were eleven years old, Malfoy. I saw what an arrogant, spoiled, elitist little punk you were when you arrived at Hogwarts, and I grew up knowing the full spectrum of the torment you unleashed on others you considered lesser than yourself. I would not allow my son or daughter to be raised in the type of environment where they considered themselves to be little Princes who ought to have their every whim catered to and to be allowed to get away with all kinds of bad and cruel behaviour."

"You have no idea what is was like to be raised in my house, Granger," Malfoy bit out, looking angry now, "It wasn't all smiles and laughter and happiness you know. Being a pureblood and a Malfoy meant that from the time I was a toddler I was schooled to always uphold the Malfoy name and taught how to act and speak and dress."

"That may be, but you were taught to be cruel to others because that was how your father acted and you emulated him," Hermione countered seriously, "There's a lot more involved here than you and I just getting sloshed and shagging, Malfoy. We're talking about creating a life. I want my parents back as badly as you want yours but that doesn't mean we should just rush into this decision. There are a lot of things to consider."

"Of all the people in the magical world I had to be stuck with you, didn't I?" he grumbled, looking annoyed at her tirade, "Anyone else would jump at what they're offering us both, but I had to get stuck with the one witch in the world who's going to go home and weigh the pros and cons of taking this deal against the good of both of us, our families and the sodding kid."

"Oh I'm sorry Malfoy," Hermione bit out huffily, "How dare I want to consider this notion from every angle before rushing into it for money? How dare I consider the long term effects of you and I having a child together?"

"I need to get my parents out of Azkaban, Granger!" Malfoy snapped, his grey eyes icy, "Their health is deteriorating rapidly. Much longer and they won't even be able to be saved. They'll be too far gone. So forgive me for caring more about my Mother and Father than I do about some brat we've got to have to achieve their freedom. All of that bollocks can be sorted out later! Right now, my parents are losing their minds in prison!"

"Well doesn't that just sound like a prelude to how any relationship of any kind between us for the sake of the kid will go?" Hermione retorted sarcastically, "All you care about is freeing your parents. You don't care about the kid you'll contribute to bringing into the world. You don't care about how it's going to feel to learn the only reason it exists is because its parents were paid to have it for the greater fucking good! How am I going to explain that, Malfoy? 'Oh don't worry kid, Daddy never gave two shits about you anyway, he just wanted his parents back. That's why you never see him.' I will not have that conversation with my child Draco Malfoy! Not even for the return of my parents to my life and especially not for fucking money!"

Hermione had officially lost her temper. That much was clear the moment she'd begun swearing at him. It was entirely out of character for her to do so, and it spoke to the emotional turmoil she was feeling over the entire issue. The fact was that Hermione wanted her parents back. Desperately so. She craved the sense of security and love and belonging that they had always given her. She wanted them back with all her heart. But the price to have them was high.

She would be forced to have sex with Draco Malfoy, possibly more than once for the purpose of falling pregnant. She would have to endure the pregnancy and the trials that came with carrying a magical child to term. She would have to flipping live with Malfoy for the length of the pregnancy and would have to share a bed with him for that length of time. She would be forced to endure the birth of the child, all whilst dealing with the anger from Ron and his family over the idea of her having Draco Malfoy's baby. She would have to bear the brunt of abuse she would likely receive for carrying his child at all, and probably the abuse from his family over her blood status and the fact that his child would be an illegitimate half-blood bastard, because there was no way in the Underworld that she would agree to marry the git .

"Don't get emotional, Granger," Malfoy cautioned, clearly sensing that this was going badly for him and that if he wanted any chance at getting his family back he would need to do a lot better job at keeping Hermione calm and not infuriating her into tearing up the contract.

" _Don't get emotional_?" Hermione repeated heatedly, "Malfoy we're talking about a child. Not a toy or a pet or some disposable piece of trash! A child. A human being. A person who will rely on you and on me to take care of it, to feed it and wash it and clothe it. To teach it right from wrong and to be its parents. Do you get that?"

"I get it Granger," Malfoy sighed, looking away from her expression of fury.

"And that doesn't even begin to cover the idea of all the other things required of us to meet the terms of the contract before the kid is even born. We would have to live together Malfoy. We would have to move into some shared room at Hogwarts and share a bed for nine months. We can barely stand one another to even have this discussion, how do you think we'd go living in each other's pockets?"

"I don't think you're really hearing me Granger," Malfoy said quietly, "I don't care. I don't care if I have to live with you. I don't care if I have to shag you. I don't care if I end up having to bloody marry you. I don't care if my parents throw a fit about having a half-blood grandchild or if your boyfriend loses his banana at me for shagging you. I _need_ to get my parents out of prison! I'll do whatever I bloody have to! Is that clear?"

"And everything else?" Hermione asked, surprised by his tirade.

"Everything else?" He asked.

"Who's going to raise the kid? Are we going to live together to give it a decent home life? Do we no longer see other people for the benefit of the kid?" Hermione asked, listing just a few of the questions she had.

"Look Granger, I don't know," Malfoy admitted, "I _do_ know that it won't matter what you do to try and smooth things over with Weasley, if you have a kid with me, he'll never forgive you. Even if he has a kid of his own with Parkinson, he won't forgive you. He won't handle having you living with me and sharing a bed with me for nine months and he won't handle having us being in each other's lives to raise our kid. If we do this, your relationship with him is pretty much done. Given than my name is currently the most disgraced within the wizarding world, prospects for pureblood matches are pretty much non-existent, so no one's nose will be out of joint on my end of things and my parents will be reminded that if not for your cooperation and for the kid, they would be rotting in Azkaban."

Hermione stared at him in frustration.

"This entire thing is complete bollocks!" She growled, crossing her arms in annoyance at the whole thing. He was right about Ron. If she went through with this deal Ron would never speak to her again. He certainly wouldn't be okay with continuing to date her. Hermione could just imagine the fights they would have if they tried. He would constantly demand to know if he or Malfoy were better in bed, if she preferred his kid or Malfoy's, if she'd rather be with Malfoy.

The Weasleys would likely never forgive her, particularly Molly, who would no doubt send Hermione a howler over the very idea.

"Maybe so," Malfoy agreed, "But right now it's what we're dealing with. So you need to make a choice. Do you want Weasley more than you want your parents back?"

"That's hardly a fair choice!" Hermione exclaimed, "I love my parents and to have them back would be wonderful. But I love Ron too, and you're right that if we do this, he'll never forgive me."

"He's got too big a chip on his shoulder," Malfoy agreed, "He would spend every waking moment wondering if you wanted to be with me."

"As though you and I want anything to do with each other," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm not that bad, you know?" Malfoy asked, glancing at her sideways and trying to look innocent.

"Don't even try it, Malfoy. I've seen too much of your nature to believe that. I'm not saying you're rotten to the core, but there are definitely a lot of wormy parts," Hermione told him, feeling a mildly amused smile creep across her face at his expression.

"You haven't even seen me naked and you're discussing my wormy parts?" Malfoy smirked at her and Hermione blushed crimson at the amusement on his face over her choice of words.

"Don't be vulgar, you know what I meant!" she admonished him sternly.

"You meant you're thinking about my wormy parts," Malfoy said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. In spite of herself, Hermione began to laugh.

The entire idea was completely ridiculous and she was furious with the ministry for being so manipulative. She was terrified of making her choice, and she had no idea what she should do. Malfoy laughed with her when Hermione threw her head back, hysterical laughter pouring out of her that caused a few muggles to look over in amusement and annoyance.

It took what felt like forever for Hermione to get her laughter under control and she could tell that Malfoy already thought she was a little bit bonkers.

"Anything else you think we ought to discuss before you make your decision?" Malfoy asked her eventually.

"You're not even going to mull over the idea, are you?" Hermione asked him, glancing at his face.

"I already know what I'm going to do. Mulling it over won't change my mind. I need to free my parents," he answered honestly.

"Even if it means you're tied to me for the rest of your life?" Hermione asked him, "If we agree to this, we'll have to put up with one another until one of us dies, you know that right? Every holiday will be spent with the kid. Every birthday. You're ok with me becoming a permanent fixture in your life?"

"Don't have much of a choice in the matter," Malfoy shrugged, "And it's not like I'm likely to have any other kids, so I guess I'd get used to you."

"What do you mean? You wouldn't have kids with some pureblood wife your parents arrange?" Hermione asked quizzically.

"You realise that all the purebloods they would've been prospecting now detest my family more than you and the Order of the Phoenix do, right Granger?" Malfoy asked looking just as quizzical, "We turned on them and the Dark Lord. We defected. They all despise me and my parents. None of my old friends will even speak to me, except Blaise and Greg. And they only do because Blaise wasn't involved in the war and Greg defected by default when he fled after Crabbe died during that mess in the Room of Requirement."

Hermione eyed him for a moment in surprise.

"So you're just going to… what?" Hermione asked, "Have a kid with me and that'll be that?"

Malfoy shrugged again.

"I only need one heir, Granger," he said, "Besides, seeing as how the world loves you, maybe they'll stop hating me so much if I'm the father of your son."

"Well now I feel like you just want to use me," Hermione told him, unable to keep from rolling her eyes at him.

Malfoy smirked a little, "I do. Are you going to let me?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Can I think about it?" she asked him seriously, "This is a lot to process in one day. And I want to go over this contract with a fine-tooth comb to make sure the Ministry can't swindle us out of what they promise and that they don't have any more wild requirements."

"Sure Granger," Malfoy answered and Hermione wondered at the way he eyed her strangely for a moment, "Cuttleworth gave us until the day before term starts, though I'd prefer to be able to see my parents before I go back to school… any chance you can decide by the end of the week?"

"I'll try…" Hermione murmured, looking away. She was dreading the idea of going home and needing to discuss the idea with Ron.

"Worrying about Weasley's reaction?" Malfoy asked when she didn't move from the bench beside him even though that had been the perfect opportunity for them both to depart.

"Is it that obvious?" Hermione asked, glancing at him in surprise for his perceptiveness.

Malfoy nodded, "You think he's going to flip, especially after he saw us holding hands to apparate when we left Cuttleworth's office. Is he always that possessive?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed, unsure why she was sitting there discussing the relationship dramas she and Ron might have with Draco Malfoy. They weren't exactly friends. In fact, until very recently he'd been on her list of enemies. As Hermione glanced at him, however, she was very aware that she couldn't discuss the issues of her relationship with anyone else in her friends group. Harry preferred to stay out of their drama and Ginny was Ron's sister.

"I don't know why he gets that way," she said softly, looking away from Malfoy again and deciding she might as well share her concerns with someone. Especially since Malfoy was someone she would be required to shag and mother a child with if she agreed to the deal, "He's been like it since before we even really got together. I mean, we loved each other awhile before he finally kissed me, but for some reason he's always felt he doesn't deserve me and so gets angry and jealous over any idea that might have me think I deserve better or that might see me with someone else. He was even paranoid for a while that I'd rather be with Harry, even though Harry and I think of each other like siblings."

"Maybe because you _are_ too good for him," Malfoy said just as quietly, causing Hermione to turn and look at him in surprise. He wasn't looking at her, though Hermione knew he was aware of her gaze. Instead he looked off into the distance, watching some muggle children playing with their dog.

"Did you just simultaneously compliment me while insulting Ron in the same sentence?" Hermione asked curiously. Malfoy smirked at that and glanced at her, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

"It's a gift I have a knack for," he said, "But the point is that maybe he acts that way because you are too good for him and he's all too aware of it. I mean, you're Hermione Granger. Without you the war would've gone the other way a long time ago and the Dark Lord would've won. I'm not saying Potter and Weasley didn't do their parts, and bravely so, but those two wouldn't have lasted five minutes without you. And they know it."

Hermione stared at Malfoy in shock to hear him say such things. It was highly out of character and she didn't know quite what to make of it all.

"Who are you and what have you done with the Draco Malfoy who liked to insult me every chance he got?" Hermione asked him warily, unsure what to make of his words and his demeanour.

Malfoy gave a half-heart kind of smile at her attempt at humour.

"The point is, he's barmy if he wants to waste his time with you by being a jealous git. I mean, you love him, right?" Malfoy said and Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, I do," Hermione answered.

"Have you ever done anything to give him reason to doubt that you love him?" Malfoy pressed.

"Well… I sided with Harry when Ron was being unreasonable while we were on the run, when he left us for a while. But Harry needed my help with the Horcrux hunt more than Ron needed me to sooth his wounded pride," Hermione answered truthfully.

"So the only times he might've been given the impression that you didn't want him or that you preferred someone else was when he was being a barmy sod and when doing so might've resulted in the end of the Wizarding world as we know it?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione nodded.

"And this time he's likely to get his wand in a knot over the idea of you doing something that will bring your family back into your life, after you sacrificed their memories to protect them during the war?" Malfoy asked again and Hermione wondered how much he knew about what she'd done to her parents.

"This time is a little more complicated than him and Harry being physically and mentally fraught during the height of a war and having a fight, Malfoy," Hermione said, her hands twisting in her lap uncomfortably, "This time getting my parents back means having sex with someone who isn't him, and having my firstborn child with someone who isn't him, whilst being forced to play house with that someone for the length of the pregnancy. Not to mention that the someone in question is you, and there's all that bad blood between you and my friends."

"That's true," Malfoy conceded, nodding thoughtfully, "But in that case let me ask you this: If he's offered something of arguably immeasurable value to him for the price of fathering a child with Pansy Parkinson – a woman you happen to have a nasty history with too – and he decides to go through with the deal, are you going to love him any less? Would you begrudge him the return of his parents, for example, even if it means you might someday be step-mother to the kid he has with her?"

"Of course I wouldn't," Hermione said, though she frowned a little at the idea. She supposed she loved Ron more than she cared about the idea of him doing anything with Pansy.

"Not even a little, Granger?" Malfoy asked, and Hermione cursed to realise he was far more perceptive than she'd expected.

"If he were to do so simply for money or something silly, like a dare, then yes, I would have a problem with him shagging that little swot. But for something important to him, I would accept it as a necessary evil for the greater good of his psychological well-being," Hermione admitted, biting her lip when he gave her an all too knowing look.

"So you love him enough that you would forgive him having sex with Pansy? That you would help him raise her child? That you would understand his reasons for doing so and understand that it wasn't a lack of his love for you but rather a love for other people who are important to him? You would forgive him and try to work through it?" Malfoy pressed her and Hermione didn't like the turn the conversation had taken.

"I suppose…. Yes. If it was for something as important to him as his parents or his family, then yes, I would understand and I would accept it. Even if it did take me a little while and some emotional outbursts to come to terms with it," Hermione confirmed with a nod.

"Then it speaks to a flaw in his character as a person if he would not extend the same courtesy to you. Either he is too petty a person and therefore not such an ideal partner to you to begin with, or he doesn't love you enough to put your happiness before his own. So the question becomes, should you sacrifice the chance at having your parents back in your life, once again aware of who and what you are to them, for the chance that Weasley might not love you enough to want you to even be happy?" Malfoy said in a low voice.

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse about this entire situation?" Hermione demanded, frustrated beyond belief at the points he had raised and the fact that he clearly had a firm grasp logical reasoning.

She didn't know what to think when Draco Malfoy flashed her a sympathetic half-smile.

"Just trying to offer an outside perspective. You're far too close to the issue to see it clearly and you don't want to consider the idea that Weasley is either too childish to think about your needs above his own, or not as in love with you as you'd both like to believe. From where I'm sitting, it sounds like he's got some issues and you might end up bearing the brunt of them in the form of your sacrificed happiness."

"And yet you're saying Ron's happiness should be sacrificed for mine," Hermione pointed out.

"Your happiness is a result of wanting your parents back, being as they're the people who birthed and raised you. Your happiness is about something important for your psychological well-being on a large scale. His is about being petty over his own inadequacies and projecting them onto you."

Hermione opened her mouth to rebut his claim. To argue that Ron's happiness ought to be a factor in her calculations too, otherwise it would be her love that was questionable. And yet, no words came out.

"Are you just saying these things in some psychological warfare tactic to sway me into taking the deal so you can have your parents back?" Hermione asked him seriously, unable to trust him at his word after all the history between them.

"I want my parents back," Malfoy shrugged, "And you want yours back. What does he want? Other than to tie you to him – possibly unhappily – for the purpose of his pride? What does he have that the Ministry might bribe him with?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, "He thinks they might offer him the job he wants and lots of money."

"So basically if he says no to them, he still has the chance to get what they've offered him all on his own volition?" Malfoy asked with one raised eyebrows, "Whereas you've been trying since the war ended to find a way to undo your memory charm on your parents, unsuccessfully so."

"You're making this harder and more confusing," Hermione accused him, putting her head in her hands and tugging at her hair in frustration.

"I'll go then," he said quietly, getting to his feet and glancing down at her for a moment when Hermione lifted her head to stare at him with wide eyes, "Owl me at the Manor when you've made your decision, alright Granger?"

Hermione nodded before watching as he walked away, his cloak billowing lightly in the breeze.


	5. 5: Rash Reactions

**Chapter 5: Rash Reactions**

Hermione didn't know how long she'd laid face-down on her bed at Grimmauld place before she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing again downstairs. She'd laid there so long that her body was stiff when she tried to roll over and she knew her pillow was still wet from the agonising tears of indecision that had poured from her eyes. She'd never agonised over anything the way she agonised over this decision.

On the one hand, her relationship with Ron meant more to her than she could say and she never wanted to lose him. On the other, she wanted her parents back desperately. The entire thing was only made worse by the fact that to get her parents back she would have to have sex with Draco Malfoy.

How was that supposed to be accomplished?

Hermione knew the ins and outs of intercourse, of course, but that didn't mean she had any idea how to be so intimate with a boy she'd spent years thinking of as the enemy. She couldn't say she found him sexually attractive. Not that he wasn't handsome in a pale, pointed kind of way. But Hermione didn't get shivers of arousal when she looked at him. She didn't find herself watching his mouth when he spoke and thinking about tasting his lips. Not like she did with Ron.

How was she supposed to get pregnant to the man without being attracted to him? She supposed she could always just lie back and think of England, but even that notion held little appeal to her.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice asked from the doorway, though Hermione hadn't heard him open it.

"Ron?" she asked, turning her head on the pillow so she could look over her shoulder towards the bedroom door.

He was leaning there in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. His red hair was rumpled as though he'd spent hours running his hand through it in frustration and indecision just the way she laid their wringing her hands in the now-crinkled sheets of her bed. She tried not to notice how handsome he was, his eyes stormy and blue, a little frown of worry wrinkling his brow. Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest.

She truly did love him. More than almost anything.

"Can I come in?" he asked politely and Hermione raised her eyebrows a little as she sat up to look at him. Unease pooled in her stomach. Ron never asked if he could come in. He usually just strolled right in and flopped on her bed with her.

"Of course you can," she said, waving her hand towards the space beside her on the double bed.

He did so slowly, coming into the room without meeting her gaze and sitting down beside her.

"Is everything alright Ron?" she asked softly when he reached over and took her hand in his very gently.

"I'm going to miss you," he whispered sadly.

"Miss me? But I'm right here," she said, fear making her stomach clench uncomfortably.

"Not for much longer," he said forlornly, "You took the deal."

"What?" Hermione asked, turning to face him in confusion.

"I saw you holding his hand when you left the office Hermione," Ron said. He didn't sound angry about it, though he had looked it a few hours ago. Instead he sounded resigned and a little defeated.

"Ron I…" Hermione began, meaning to tell him she hadn't decided yet what she would do.

"It's alright Hermione," Ron cut her off before she could explain, "I knew as soon as I saw the article that you would. I took the deal too. I signed the contract. They're going to give me a position in the Auror Department after we graduate, in addition to thirty five thousand Galleons if I have a brat with Parkinson. Since you'd already taken the deal I didn't see the point in waiting around. She was keen to sign it and get her Dad out of Azkaban…"

Hermione turned to look at Ron horror-stricken.

"Ron…. I didn't take the deal yet…" she told him, her voice echoing strangely and sounding funny to her own ears.

"But I saw you and Malfoy… he was holding you hand," Ron protested, his blue eyes widening in alarm.

"Because he offered me a hand up in the office and offered me a handkerchief when I started crying after Cuttleworth gave me a file with some recent pictures of my parents. We were about to Apparate to discuss the situation privately…." Hermione trailed off, staring at her hand inside Ron's. She felt like she wasn't there in the moment.

As though she was somewhere else, her voice sounding distant and faraway even to her on ears.

"You didn't…." Ron said and Hermione noticed vaguely that his skin was pale, his freckles standing out in stark contrast.

"You took the deal?" Hermione asked him, "You're going to shag Parkinson and live with her while she's pregnant? She's going to have your firstborn…"

"I…" Ron began, his voice sounding squeaky as though he couldn't believe what he'd done, "You didn't… I thought you'd have…. Didn't they offer to help get your parents back?"

"Yes. They did," Hermione told him, "But I wanted longer to think about everything and to weigh up the pros and cons of each option. I didn't want to just jump into the idea of having Draco Malfoy's child…. I can't believe you signed it already."

"But… don't you want your parents back?" Ron asked weakly, his ear turning red with embarrassment.

"Yes. I do. I want them back more than anything. But I thought it might be nice to, oh I don't know, discuss what becomes of our relationship if we both have sex and becomes parents with other people. I wanted to think about whether or not having my Mum and Dad back would be worth the stigma and the horror of having sex with Draco Malfoy and raising his child. I wanted to talk to you and find out how we would handle this…. I guess I have my answer…"

Hermione pulled her hand away from Ron's and climbed off the bed feeling like she was in a daze.

"Hermione… I," he tried to talk to her but Hermione had stopped listening. He'd lashed out irrationally over the idea of her and Malfoy and had signed away his child and his freedom of choice over who would bear that child. He hadn't stopped to think that they should discuss the matter in detail. He hadn't thought about how she would feel about him shagging Parkinson. He'd just signed it away. Hermione could tell it had been done in anger and perhaps a little bit of greed for the money and the position he'd been offered if he agreed to it.

Taking up a piece of parchment and a quill, Hermione scrawled a quick note to Malfoy. She'd already read her contract in depth and knew all the requirements of both of them if they agreed. She knew she would have to share his bed and his quarters at Hogwarts. That they were expected to begin trying for a child as soon as possible. That when she was pregnant they had to meet several other strict requirements for the length of the pregnancy. All she'd needed to agonize over was whether or not she wanted Ron more than she wanted her parents back. And Ron had taken the choice out of her hands. He was going to shag Parkinson, so she might as well take the deal. Even if it did mean she'd have to spend an inordinate amount of time for the rest of her life tied to Draco Malfoy.

 _ **Malfoy,**_

 _ **I've made my decision. Meet me at the Ministry offices tomorrow morning to get the contracts signed. We can discuss the requirements afterwards. Unless you've changed your mind about going through with this?**_

 _ **-Hermione**_

"You're just going to go ahead and do it then?" Ron demanded when he came over and read the note over her shoulder.

"I don't see why not," Hermione told him, "You didn't stop to think about how our relationship would go when you signed up to do this with Parkinson. I might as well cash in on doing it too."

"You're doing this to get back at me, aren't you?" Ron asked her, his arms crossing over his chest as he began to glare at her.

"No, Ronald. You did that. You signed that form and agreed to father Pansy Parkinson's child because you foolishly thought that I would just jump at the chance to get away from you. You've been paranoid about our relationship and had no trust in my love for you since before we even got together and you just assumed that I would pick my parents and bloody Malfoy over you. You lashed out, knowing that agreeing to shag Parkinson for money would hurt me and you did it without thinking any of the consequences through. I'll bet you didn't even read the contract about all the things you are now required to do. Now, move out of my way. I need to send a letter to the future father of my children."

With that said Hermione brushed past Ron and made her way up to the room with the open window at the top of the house. It had once been occupied by Buckbeak, but after Sirius had died, Harry had set Buckbeak free back in the forest at Hogwarts. Since then it had become the unofficial Owlery of Grimmauld Place. Pigwidgeon and the new owl Hermione had purchased for Harry's last birthday to replace Hedwig – a handsome Great Grey Owl named Archimedes – had taken it over as their roosting place when they weren't out hunting or delivering letters.

In spite of her mood and her sense of hurt over her deteriorating relationship with Ron, Hermione couldn't help but smile when she walked into the room and discovered the Little Owl – which was small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of her hand, snuggled up next to the feathery feet of the Great Grey Owl, which dwarfed the tiny bird at almost twenty times the size of Pigwidgeon.

"Archimedes?" Hermione asked, going over to the bird and stroking his grey and black feathers gently to coax him awake. His lifted his head from under his wing and blinked at her owlishly.

"Could you take this letter to Draco Malfoy at Malfoy Manor?" she asked the owl politely, offering the letter to the bird, who in turn offered his foot to allow her to attach the scroll, "He might have a reply for me and not know where to send it, so wait around for a little while to see if he replies, please."

Archimedes hooted at her intelligently before he took wing out the open bedroom window and soared out into the gathering dark of evening. Unwilling to engage in further fights with Ron, Hermione tromped down the stairs and into the kitchen where she found Kreacher preparing their evening meal.

"Hello Kreacher," she greeted the old elf. He'd improved in the manners department a great deal since Harry had returned Regulus's locket to him and allowed him to erect a memorial for his lost Master and Mistress in a quiet corner of the house.

"Good Evening Miss," the elf replied in his reedy voice, turning to offer her a smile and a small bow despite how often Hermione had asked him not to treat her so formally.

"What are you cooking this evening?" she asked the elf curiously, her stomach beginning to grumble at the delicious aromas wafting off the pots and pans bubbling away on the stove.

"Kreacher is making venison stew, roast beef with vegetables and those mini treacle, caramel and chocolate tarts the Miss likes," Kreacher said, gracing her with a shrewd expression while Hermione felt her surprise show on her face. Of the three of them, Kreacher usually had the least tolerance for Hermione so it was odd for him to say he was doing something in particular that she would like.

"That's very kind and thoughtful of you Kreacher," Hermione said, wondering what the elf was up to. He was always up to something when he went out of his way to be extra nice to her or Ron. He was more than willing to be respectful and nice to Harry, but less so with her or Ron unless he wanted something.

"Kreacher heard the Miss's discussion with the ginger Master," the elf told her with a sly grin on his face as he turned away. No matter how often Ron asked the elf not to call him that, Krecher continued to use the name, "Is it true the Miss will be entering into agreement to birth the child of Master Draco?"

"You call Malfoy 'master'?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Master Draco is the son of one the last surviving members of the Black family, Miss," Kreacher informed her with a solemn nod, "Mistress Andromeda and Mistress Narcissa were Blacks before they married. My Mistress always spoke highly of Mistress Narcissa, her niece. Is you to mother Master Draco's children, Miss?"

"I suppose I am Kreacher," Hermione sighed, surprised when the elf hurried over with a pot of tea for her to drink, which he poured for her, "The Ministry of Magic has initiated some incentives to encourage certain people to reproduce in order to lessen any residual Blood Prejudice in the aftermath of the war. They asked that Draco Malfoy and I have a child together, being as I am well known for being muggle-born and he is well-known for his past prejudices. They think that if we have a child others will be encouraged to forget their grudges and move forward."

"And you is agreeing, Miss?" Kreacher asked her, bringing her a plate of biscuits since dinner wasn't for a few hours yet.

"I've just sent of the letter asking him to meet me at the Ministry tomorrow so we can sign the paperwork. The Ministry has agreed that if we breed, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy will be released from Azkaban to return to Malfoy Manor, where they will be attended by Healers until they are well again. The Ministry will also return my parents to England and begin undoing the memory modification charms I did on them to protect them during the war. They're giving us both fifty thousand Galleons each as well…" Hermione explained to the elf.

"You is to be the mother of the next Malfoy heir," Kreacher nodding, looking as though the idea pleased him.

"Indeed," Hermione sighed, not wanting to think too hard about the idea of how that heir was going to get into her tummy to begin growing. She supposed she ought to begin planning for that if she was going to sign the papers and see it done. She really didn't fancy the idea of needing to shag Malfoy more often than absolutely necessary for conception, which meant she was going to have to start timing her ovulation cycle for optimum fertility.

She would also need to stop taking the birth control potion she'd begun taking since she and Ron had become a couple. A requirement of the agreement was that they begin trying for a child as soon as possible, so she would have to look into potions and supplements she could take to increase her chance of falling pregnant.

"That tea is good for making babies, Miss," Kreacher interrupted her thoughts and Hermione raised her eyebrows at the elf, "You was muttering about fertility and supplements and things, Miss."

"Oh. What's in this tea, Kreacher?" Hermione asked him.

"Extract of Lotus Mango, Chasteberry and Red Raspberry leaf, Miss," Kreacher told her, "They be good for making your body want to be pregnant."

"You already knew I'd agreed to meet Malfoy tomorrow about the deal, didn't you?" she asked the elf.

"Kreacher hears when the Miss and the Ginger Master argues, and Kreacher knows the Ministry be putting Miss and Master Draco together. Kreacher helps," the elf grinned toothily, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at the elf.

"I had no idea you were so interested in seeing such a pure bloodline tainted with muggleborn blood like mine," Hermione told the elf.

"Miss is a good witch, bright, smart and strong. Master Draco be clever, cunning and in need of a witch to bear his son now that the Malfoys be out of favour with so many. With Mistress Andromeda's husband and daughter dead, there is only Master Edward Lupin and Master Draco Malfoy left to carry on the bloodline of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."


	6. 6: Agreement Accepted

**Chapter 6: Agreement Accepted**

Hermione managed to avoid both Harry and Ron for the remainder of the evening, choosing to retire to her bedroom, where Kreacher seemed only too cheerful to serve her. Harry had tried to speak to her through the door about what decision she had made regarding Malfoy, but Hermione had told him she wasn't feeling well and asked him to leave her in peace, knowing that though he was legitimately curious the black haired boy was more interested in trying to broker a reconciliation between her and Ron than in her feelings on the deal.

She'd been sitting on her bed and nibbling a caramel tart when Archimedes had arrived at her window, tapping on the glass with a letter attached to his legs. When she'd let him in the great owl had hopped over to her bowl of half eaten stew and begun pecking at the hunks of venison inside while Hermione removed the letter from his leg. Malfoy's reply had been short, but surprisingly sincere.

It had simply read:

 _ **I'll be there at nine. Thank you. ~D.**_

That had been it. No mention of anything else, no questions regarding her quick decision-making time or what they would have to do once the contract was signed. Just a meeting time and an expression of gratitude that had surprised Hermione.

In spite of her nervousness over the entire matter, and the fact that she'd been up half the night pondering the idea, Hermione was dressed and out the door by quarter to nine the following morning. She arrived at the Ministry a few minutes before nine and spent a long moment wondering where exactly she ought to meet Malfoy before she spotted the perfect spot. Making her way through the crowd of witches and wizards hurrying to their offices, Hermione stopped by the statue of the Sprite that Malfoy had leaned against the day before.

And then she waited.

She waited as the clock somewhere in the Ministry struck out the hour with some mildly obnoxious yet pleasing chimes. She waited as the many Ministry employees disappeared into their offices and behind their desks, the bustle of the Ministry dying down to a low hum of activity as the working day began. She even waited when one of the reception desk witches – Linda - caught her eye and raised her eyebrows, silently asking if Hermione needed assistance. Hermione smiled at the woman tightly before glancing at her wrist watch and wondering where Malfoy was.

She admittedly wasn't an expert on his comings and goings, nor his habits, but she was surprised by his tardiness. It seemed out of character for the rigidly aristocratic pureblood to be late to an arranged meeting.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when his voice suddenly spoke from beside her, spinning towards him in surprise.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologised by way of greeting and Hermione stared at him in shock.

Unlike the dark robes he'd worn yesterday, today the shirts of his robes were a brilliant shade of sky blue that somehow complimented his grey eyes and blonde hair. His hair looked damp, as though he's showered recently and he smelled of crisp cinnamon and citrus with a hint of minty fresh-breath.

"I'd begun to think you weren't coming," Hermione told him honestly, dragging her eyes away from the fact that he looked rather dashing when he wore colours other than all black.

"I had some trouble evading the reporters," Malfoy explained, "They've been swamping the gates of the Manor since I was released after my trial. Yesterday's article hasn't helped matters. The amount of sods I had ask me if I'd have preferred to remain in prison than to even be considered by the Ministry to breed with you was frankly disgusting."

"They've learned to leave me alone," Hermione told him, unable to hide her smug grin.

"What'd you do? Hex them?" he asked seriously.

"No," Hermione grinned, "I learned of Rita Skeeter's unregistered status as an animagus in fourth year after she kept overhearing conversations and after I caught sight of you whispering to a beetle a few times. I might've, you know, taken her hostage inside a jam jar for a few weeks and threatened to out her illegal activities if she didn't stop spreading lies about me and Harry. She got a little unruly during the war while we were on the run, but since then I've managed to catch up with her. She keeps the rest of the reporters away from me, Harry and Ron in exchange for a few exclusives and stories from us. I expect I'll have an owl from her the minute she gets wind of this agreement."

"You blackmailed Rita Skeeter?" Malfoy asked incredulously, staring at her as though he didn't believe his ears, "You took her hostage in a jam jar for a few weeks? Are you mental?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the Golden Girl goody-two shoes of the 'Golden Trio' – as you sods have been dubbed?" Malfoy wanted to know.

Hermione laughed, "Oh please, I've broken more laws than you ever will, Malfoy. I mean, I did break into Gringotts, steal from the LeStrange vault, and commandeer a dragon all in an afternoon. A little hostage situation and some blackmail in fourth year was nothing really."

"I suddenly feel less secure in this arrangement," Malfoy announced, eyeing her as though she were a Howler about to explode, "I don't know if I can handle your mood swings and behaviour whilst emotional and pregnant."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment.

"Worried I'll punch you again?" she asked him, grinning.

"A little," he admitted and Hermione was surprised when Malfoy smirked back at her as though amused by the memory.

"Well, I'm not going to promise not to. I'm liable to break such an oath with you involved… Should we go and meet Cuttleworth?" Hermione said, noting that Malfoy looked a little bit amused by her statement.

"I owled him last night after I heard from you, he's expecting us in a few minutes," Malfoy said, leading the way towards the same office they'd been in yesterday discussing the contract.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger, do come in," Cuttleworth invited when he spotted them in his doorway, "I've just got your contract in order."

Hermione sat in front of his desk and stared at the man for a few moments as he offered it to her to read. Taking it tentatively, Hermione proof-read the document quickly to ensure there had been no amendments made to the terms of the agreement. When she finished, she took the quill Cuttleworth offered her.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hermione held the quill poised over the parchment as she prepared to sign her name. She hesitated only once, her hand shaking just the tiniest bit before Hermione steeled her nerves and scratched her signature across the parchment on the allotted line for her. When she was finished she handed the parchment and the quill over to Malfoy.

He didn't bother to read it the way she had and Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to read it before you sign it?" she asked him as he poised his hand to sign his name.

"Do I need to?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in return, "You read it, and I know you wouldn't have signed it if we were going to get bollocksed."

With that said he signed his name at the bottom. Hermione narrowed her eyes when the scroll began to glow before it rolled itself up and a Ministry seal appeared upon it.

"Marvellous. With the contract in order the Ministry will have people dispatched to retrieve both your parents from their current locations. Mr Malfoy, your mother and father will be escorted to St. Mungo's to have their health evaluated and to treat their current conditions. Once it is safe to do so, they will be released to your home in Wiltshire. Miss Granger, your parents will be retrieved from Australia and transported to St Mungo's as well, where the healers will begin work undoing your memory modification charm," Cuttleworth told them both with a pleased smile, "The monetary incentive you are to be given will be placed in your respective vaults at Gringotts just as soon as we have confirmation from you that you are pregnant with Mr Malfoy's child, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, having already read all that in the contract she had signed and so knowing they wouldn't be given the money until she was knocked up.

"For the time being, you are both asked to attend St Mungos to be evaluated by a healer regarding your health and to discuss any concerns you might have in regard to your impending parenthood," Cuttleowrth continued and Hermione began to feel slightly squeamish about the notion of now being required to bed Draco Malfoy.

"How soon will my parents be in St Mungo's?" Malfoy asked Cuttleworth seriously.

"I should expect they'll be moved within the hour," Cuttleworth assured him, "In the meantime do either of you have any questions for me?"

"What if it doesn't work?" Hermione asked, the question occurring to her suddenly and rather unexpectedly. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought to ask it before she's signed the contract.

"Doesn't work, Miss Granger?" Cuttleworth asked looking concerned now.

"Well, I mean, I've never been tested regarding things like fertility and such. What if some freak turn of events results in one or both of us being unable to conceive?" Hermione clarified with the man, "Obviously chances are slim and it would be awful, but there is always the chance that we might… er… you know… and have it be ineffective."

"Such an occurrence is highly unlikely Miss Granger, however the hospital has been instructed to check for such things in their examination of you. Within the magical world we have several procedures in place to rectify infertility, so if either you or Mr Malfoy are indeed infertile, a procedure would be expected in order for the situation to be healed and the problem overcome," Cuttleworth explained.

Hermione nodded her head slowly, already feeling awkward.

"Any other questions?" Cuttleworth asked them.

"I don't think so," Malfoy said, and Hermione felt his gaze on her, clearly wondering if she had any other questions.

"I think everything else was covered in the contract," Hermione said.

"Brilliant. Well then. The Ministry thanks you for your cooperation. As you know you are required to tolerate each other, cooperate with each other and copulate with each other. If you have any further questions do not hesitate to owl me about them," the little pudgy man said, getting to his feet and offering his hand to Hermione and then Draco to shake.

Hermione got to her feet slowly after she'd shaken the man's hand and been silently dismissed. In fact she walked slowly out of the office feeling entirely too awkward and unsure what to do about it.

"Granger?" Malfoy's voice was low and close to her ear when she reached the corridor outside the office. Hermione turned towards the blonde man curiously and was surprised to find him standing just inside her personal space, looking down at her with an odd expression on his face.

She squeaked in surprise when he tugged gently on the front of her jumper until she was pressed against him, and she shuddered when she felt him wrap his arms around her waist in a hug.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, her arms coming up automatically to return the hug out of habit rather than any real desire to be so intimate with him.

"In most cultures it's called a hug, Granger," Malfoy drawled without letting her go, his warm breath tickling her neck, "However in this instance I am attempting to convey my gratitude to you for agreeing to do this, in spite of your distaste for me. I'm grateful that thanks to your agreement my parents will be released and cared for."

"I'm mildly alarmed," Hermione admitted, her hands awkwardly resting on his lower back, her body tense in his hold.

Malfoy laughed at her admission as he slowly pulled away, releasing her.

"You'll get used to it," he smirked.

"Why would I get used to being hugged by you?" Hermione wanted to know as they began walking towards the exits, "Just because we're contractually obligated to share a child does not mean we're suddenly a couple or anything else, Malfoy. You can't just go about hugging me whenever it strikes your fancy."

"Maybe so, but you signed the contract and have to share my bed for the next who knows how long until our son is born. And I'm a cuddler," he said with an evil smirk.

Hermione barely resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and groan.

"Are you going to St Mungo's now?" he asked when she gave no answer. Hermione wondered if she looked as ill as she felt.

"I suppose that would make sense. I ought to ask them what else I should be taking to encourage fertility and ensure we have to have sex a little as possible," Hermione told him without looking at him, her cheeks darkening at the mention of such things.

"What else you should be taking?" he repeated, "You're already taking something?"

"Well, yes," Hermione answered, glancing at him quizzically, "I stopped taking my contraceptive potion last night. And the house elf I live with got wind of the idea of us breeding and grew a little excited over the notion of a new child of the Black bloodline being born."

"Potter's still got that senile old elf, Kreacher, doesn't he?" Malfoy asked.

"How do you know Kreacher?" Hermione asked him.

"He used to turn up at the Manor sometimes during the war. Drawn to Aunt Bella and my mother as being daughters of the Ancient house of Black. He's as senile as a snail," Malfoy told her.

"Not entirely. He does have his moments of nuttiness but for the most part he's improved a lot since Harry gave him an heirloom of Regulus Black's. When I went down for dinner last night he was cooking some of my favourite desserts and he'd brewed me some Lotus Mango, Red Raspberry Leaf and Chasteberry tea, all of which are herbs used to stimulate the reproductive organs to ready them for growing children… He seemed unusually pleased by the idea that I would be bearing the next Malfoy heir."

"Probably because of my Mother," Malfoy nodded, looking mildly amused by the information, "With Aunt Bella and my cousin, Nymphadora, both dead the last of the Black bloodline lays with Mother and I. Excluding Edward Lupin, of course. I wouldn't be surprised if that elf switches his allegiance to you when you're pregnant."

"He already calls you 'Master Draco'," Hermione informed him, "And once he stopped muttering about me being a Mudblood he's taken to calling me 'Miss' whenever I'm around."

"What's he call Potter and Weasley?" Malfoy asked curiously.

"Harry gets 'Master Harry' or sometimes just 'Master' and Ron…. Kreacher calls him 'the ginger Master'. It's very amusing to watch Ron get annoyed about it. I think Kreacher does it on purpose. Ron's asked him not to use that term but since Ron isn't actually his master, he doesn't have to do it and Harry finds it too funny to forbid Kreacher from calling Ron that."

Malfoy laughed at that and Hermione found herself watching him do so. It seemed strange to be sharing a laugh with Draco Malfoy. Especially a laugh that seemed genuine. In the past he'd always been laughing at her.

"I suppose we'd best be off to the Hospital then," Malfoy said when he's stopped laughing though he still looked amused. He offered his hand to Hermione as he'd done the day before and Hermione reached for it hesitantly. When she took it she noticed that his skin was cool to touch.

He raised his eyebrows in askance when she didn't do anything else and Hermione nodded slightly, indicating she was ready to apparate. With a sharp jerk behind her navel, Hermione and Draco disapparated from the Ministry with a resounding crack.


	7. 7: Ovulation Obstacles

**Chapter 7: Ovulation Obstacles**

When they reached the Ministry Hermione and Draco parted ways to see the respective healers who would be examining them. As she sat in the exam room waiting for her healer Hermione found herself wondering about the changes she had seen in Malfoy during the past two days. She'd been more than a little surprised by how polite he'd been to her and in all honesty it had unnerved her a little to find that when he wasn't being a git he could be very charming.

She didn't doubt that his change in attitude had to do with the horrors he'd experienced during the war, and perhaps whilst suffering the indignity of his stay in Azkaban pending his trial date at the Ministry. The fact that he needed her cooperation to free his parents probably also contributed to his overall manners and amicability.

"Ah, Miss Granger," a healer with a bright smile said, drawing Hermione's attentions from her ponderings, "I'm Healer Thomas. What seems to be the trouble today?"

"Oh, erm… well I'm here for a check-up mostly. I'm going to be trying to get pregnant very soon, so I wanted to make sure everything's fine," Hermione told the woman, admiring her neatly styled long brown hair.

"Ah, of course. You've taken the Ministry up on their deal regarding reproducing with Draco Malfoy then?" Healer Thomas asked her.

"I have. He's here somewhere for his check-up too. It's part of the deal that everyone has to be checked out before they begin attempting to conceive," Hermione explained.

"Alright then, let's take a look shall we?" Healer Thomas smiled, "Now I'm going to do a series of spells that will test your levels of fertility, your overall health and your current pregnancy status. If we find anything abnormal we'll do some further tests, alright?"

"Alright," Hermione nodded.

"Wonderful. Well, if I could just get you to lie back on the bed there and lift your jumper, we can jump right in."

Hermione did as she was instructed, keeping quiet on the questions she had while the Healer muttered healing spells. The first one, Hermione recognized as being a Diagnostic charm, which showed that she was currently healthy. The second was one Hermione assumed to test her fertility, an array of colours in a misty haze rose from her stomach like a tiny rainbow formed with vapours from a potion.

"You've been taking a contraceptive potion recently, correct?" the Healer asked her.

"Yes. I stopped last night. And I started drinking Lotus Mango, Red Raspberry Leaf and Chasteberry tea," Hermione told her, concerned by the little frown on the Healer's face.

"Chasteberry?" she confirmed. Hermione nodded, "That explains it then. It's very unusual to see a colour pattern like this. Especially when a patient has been taking contraceptives. But if you've been taking those herbs in a tea then it explains most of them. How did you get your hands on some Chasteberry? They're very rare here and use of them is often discouraged because of the effect it has on fertility levels in women. Due to your age, you're already at your peak levels of fertility, and the use of the herd has resulted in these colours, ordinarily we see some blue and red, but orange and green are unusual."

"Should I stop taking it?" Hermione asked, "My house elf gave it to me. He's very pleased about the idea of me having a child with Malfoy."

"Elves are funny like that. But that explains how you got hold of it. Elves have been using Chasteberry to assist their Mistresses and Master for centuries. You can keep taking it if you like. My understanding of these deals is that the sooner you're pregnant, the sooner you get all your incentives. Not to mention that you and Mr Malfoy have an unfriendly history. I assume you're not thrilled over the idea of needing to copulate with him more than you have to?"

"That's right," Hermione nodded, "We've agreed to this because the incentives were too valuable to be turned down and are otherwise unattainable. But we don't fancy each other or even particularly like one another. The less time spent having to shag him in order to fall pregnant, the happier I'll be."

Healer Thomas chuckled at that.

"Well, then keep taking those herbs. I'll give you some supplements to take as well, to help with readying your body for child bearing. It's serious business, making babies. And magical pregnancies are particularly hard on witches. Let me just do one more test to confirm you're not already pregnant, and then we'll discuss some options to make this easier for you."

The healer waved her wand over Hermione's stomach one last time and a series of little red bubbles rose seemingly from inside her skin, levitating into the air for a foot before popping.

"Alright, excellent. You're not currently pregnant. The bubbles would've been green if you were," Healer Thomas told her, smiling reassuringly, "Now then, pregnancy is a science and there is a lot more to it than just having sex. The timing has to be right. Pregnancy is only possible when you are ovulating, so with you and Draco being unwilling to copulate more than necessary, I recommend timing your intimacies to your ovulation cycle."

"Ok. How do I do that?" Hermione asked.

"Well every woman has a window of ovulation during which pregnancy is most likely to occur. What type of schedule does you cycle keep?"

"Twenty-eight days, like clockwork," Hermione replied, knowing her menstrual cycle well.

"Wonderful. Now, to calculate your window of ovulation we count the days. When was the first day of your last period?" the Healer asked.

"Twenty-three days ago," Hermione admitted, "It went for five days."

"Excellent. So you're due for another any time now?"

"I believe so," Hermione nodded.

"Alright. The fertile window in a woman is the five days preceding and the day of ovulation. In women with a cycle like yours ovulation typically happens on day fourteen of the cycle, beginning the day your next period starts. That means that if you get your period today or tomorrow, then that is when you start counting. The window within which you are most likely to fall pregnant will begin nine days after your period starts and will increase in likelihood up until day fourteen. If the egg is not fertilised in that time it will die and your body will begin readying for you next period. Do you understand?"

"You're saying the best chance I have at falling pregnant quickly is to spend a week shagging Malfoy after my next period stops?" Hermione said seriously.

"You need to be exact about the days to get it right, but essentially yes. The more often you copulate during that fertile window, the higher the chance is that you'll get pregnant. Depending on the stamina of yourself and Mr Malfoy, having sex as often as possible during that window is ideal," Healer Thomas explained.

"I don't suppose it would suffice to simply have sex on day fourteen?" Hermione asked, dreading the idea of telling Malfoy that they ought to spend a week emulating bunnies and shagging until neither of them could move.

"You could try it, but if you are too late or it is unsuccessful you would have to try again the following month," the healer told her sympathetically, "However, despite your misgivings, the method of spending the week together and shagging regularly would go a long way towards smoothing the way for your pregnancy. I understand that the Ministry requires you live and sleep together for the length of the pregnancy?"

"They do," Hermione sighed.

"Well in my experience spending such a prolonged and intimate time together early on does wonders for alleviating awkwardness. Currently you and Mr Malfoy are bordering on hostile allegiants, only working together for your rewards. If you're going to have a child together and be in each other's lives to raise it, that will need to change. What better way than by participating in sex until you can't see straight and don't care anymore if he sees you naked or has to hold your hair while you throw up?" the healer smiled encouragingly, "As I said Hermione, magical pregnancies are hard on witches. It's one of the reasons we encourage our young people to reproduce early. You'll need Draco's help during the months of your pregnancy far more than you realise right now."

"Why did I even agree to this?" Hermione muttered to herself, not at all liking the sound of the healer's plan but seeing the logic behind it.

"How do you plan to go about overcoming the initial awkwardness for the first time?" Healer Thomas wanted to know.

"I honestly don't know. It was weird enough when he hugged me in thanks for agreeing to this idea earlier. How are we supposed to snog and get naked and shag?" Hermione asked, feeling frustrated and embarrassed.

"You could always get drunk," the healer told her, smiling now, "We've yet to find a scientific correlation between alcohol consumption and pregnancy rates beyond the carelessness intoxication brings, but I've found many people prefer this method. Have dinner with him, have too much whiskey and then have sex. One of the supplements I'm giving you will increase your libido, making you want to have sex more than you regularly might. That should help. Alcohol will remove your inhibitions and take care of the rest."

"I thought of that, but how much am I likely going to need to drink before I can forget he's Draco Malfoy, the boy who was cruel to me for seven years from the moment he met me?" Hermione asked.

Healer Thomas laughed at that.

"I'm not sure, but you'll figure it out. From now on I want you to take one of these tablets with breakfast every morning and another at night before you go to bed, alright? They're vitamins and things that will help ready your body for carrying and birthing a baby. When you return to Hogwarts you'll be under the care of Madam Pomfrey once more, and I'll be sure to owl her your medications and things. Come back and see me after you Window of Ovulation closes and we'll test you again to see if you're pregnant."

Hermione nodded, taking the bottle of pills she was handed and putting them in her bag, understanding that she was being dismissed.

"You'll be fine Hermione, I promise," Healer Thomas reassured her as Hermione was leaving the room feeling nervous, "Witches and Wizards have been reproducing since the dawn of time, often with people they didn't much like to begin with."

Hermione tried to smile, though she suspected it was more of a grimace. She left the exam room and returned to the lobby of the Hospital, meaning to step outside and apparate home, but when she reached it she spotted Malfoy sitting in one of the waiting room chairs.

"Malfoy?" she asked, going over to him, noticing his distraction.

He looked up at her for a moment as though he didn't recognise her before he blinked rapidly.

"Granger?" he asked, sitting up straighter, "How did you go?"

"Fine," Hermione told him, "Kreacher's teas have already begun increasing my fertility levels."

Malfoy nodded, seeming distracted, glancing towards the doors every few seconds.

"How did your examination go?" she asked, cheeks pinkening slightly as she took a seat beside him.

"Swimmingly," Malfoy said, throwing a smirk her way that was rather lecherous.

"Thank you for that image," she replied dryly, realising he was referring to the fact that they'd have had to test his 'swimmers' to make sure he was fertile.

"Any time, Granger," he promised.

"Have they brought your parents in yet?" Hermione asked him.

Malfoy sighed, "Not yet. I'm going to wind up here all day at this rate."

Hermione bit her lip.

"We need to discuss what happens now," Hermione told him seriously.

"Now's the easy part Granger," Malfoy told her, glancing at her.

"Could you look less lascivious please?" Hermione requested of him when she noted his leery expression. She suspected he was doing it because he was fretting about his parents, "You and I don't particularly like one another and so I'd like to suggest that rather than wildly climbing into bed with one another we time this to the window when I'm actually able to fall pregnant."

"There's a window?" Malfoy asked and Hermione could tell she had his attention.

"There's a window. It's called a window of ovulation, which is the only time during each month when the egg is released and awaiting fertilisation. Outside of that window pregnancy is practically impossible."

"When's this window?" he asked, looking mildly alarmed by the discussion of the inner workings of the female reproductive system.

"Days nine through to fourteen of my menstrual cycle," Hermione informed him, "Outside that time I can't get pregnant so there's not point having sex then. The Healer recommended that during the window we shag as often as possible…."

"Is this your way of coming onto me, Granger?" Malfoy smirked at her, looking wickedly amused when she blushed crimson.

"Malfoy!" Hermione warned.

"Sorry," he chuckled, "It's funny watching you blush like that. So what exactly do we have to do? Just shag like bunnies for six days straight?"

"Basically," Hermione nodded, "Which begs the question of how you think that will go."

"Are you asking how virulent I am, Granger?" he smirked again and Hermione kind of wanted to thump him.

"I suppose I am," she answered, trying very hard to keep from blushing again.

Malfoy's smirk widened into an entirely predatory smile.

"My current record was five times in one day. And that was only because the witch started complaining about being sore. I think I can handle shagging you for six days straight," He bragged.

"I feel ill," Hermione announced and Malfoy chuckled.

"You won't by the time I'm through with you," he promised lecherously, "When do you need me?"

"Must you word it like that?" Hermione demanded, entirely uncomfortable with the question. And with the notion that she _needed_ him for anything. Especially when he said it in that particular flirtatious tone.

"I must," Malfoy nodded, feigning sincerity, "That blush on your cheeks is rather endearing."

"It's as though you enjoy upsetting me," Hermione complained, crossing her arms and turning in her seat to face the doors rather than continuing to look at his stupid face.

"You've been away from me too long if you've managed to forget how much I enjoy tormenting you, Granger. Of course I like upsetting you. You play along so well every time," Malfoy said and Hermione shuddered when he casually threw his arm around the back of her chair, fingers tugging gently on her pony-tail.

"Well quit it," Hermione snapped at him before realising she was only encouraging him by reacting, "Since I don't think you'd be able to come to my place for a week of sex without Harry and Ron trying to kill you, I suppose I'll have to come to yours. Does that suit you?"

"It's fine," Malfoy nodded, his attention turning from her and back to the doors as they opened suddenly to reveal several Ministry officials, levitating a pair of unconscious people dressed in prison robes.

Hermione watched the way Malfoy shot to his feet at the sight of his unconscious parents. She barely recognised the once proud and regal-looking Malfoy pair. Both appeared to be unconscious, hanging limp as they were levitated into the room. The Ministry officials were calling out to have some healers come and see to them and the few other people in the waiting room all turned to watch on in a fascinated kind of horror as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were brought into the hospital.

Draco had to be restrained when he began trying to shove his way through the gathered officials and healers to reach his parents, his expression tight with worry and concern. Hermione was the one who ended up restraining him. She could tell the Ministry officials didn't want to risk upsetting the blonde man any further, and that more than one of them was a little concerned over how he might react if told not to interfere with his own parents.

"Malfoy!" Hermione said sternly, moving through the officials until she was able to take hold of Draco's arm.

"Get off me, Granger," Draco snarled at her, turning steely grey eyes on her furiously when she began tugging his arm to get him out of the way.

"Stop being a complete git and get out of the way so the healers can do their job!" Hermione snarled right back at him, not flinching or backing down in the face of his fury, "All you're achieving right now is prolonging their current state. Now, move!"

With that said, Hermione hauled none too gently on his arm until he was out of the thick of everything, pulling him over to the side of the waiting room. Malfoy protested in the form of several expletives while the healing team swept away levitating his parents along with them.

"What do you think you're doing Granger?" Malfoy demanded as she finally released him.

"I'm doing you a favour, so you can shove that tone of yours somewhere unpleasant! You're not helping your parents or yourself by trying to rouse two people who've been sedated for their own health and protection. When the healers have dealt with the worst of their current ailments I'm sure you will be notified but until then you're just going to have to behave yourself and rein in your frustration," Hermione said sternly, all too used to dealing with angry, emotional teenage boys who were being irrational. After all, she'd spent seven and a half years tolerating the wild moods and behaviours of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. One mildly irate Draco Malfoy was a breeze.

"You can't tell me what to do Granger!" Malfoy snapped at her, yanking his arm away from her when she went to reach for it again.

"Oh I see," Hermione snapped as he began storming down the corridor the way the healers had gone with his parents, "No, you're right that makes sense. Make the sacrifice of having to have a kid with me in order to get your parents freed and then refuse to allow the healers to do their job and keep your parent's minds intact. Why didn't I think of that plan? It makes total sense."

Hermione knew she'd gotten through his haze of worry and frustration when he stopped midstride, spun and stomped back towards her, seizing hold of her biceps too tightly and glaring down at her.

"Shut it!" he commanded in a low voice, "Just stop talking, Granger."

"Not until you stop being a git. You didn't go through all this to see them damaged in the last few feet. I personally don't like your parents and so it matters little to me if you want to risk their further mental unhinging, but since I'm going to have to put up with you in some capacity for the rest of my life, it wouldn't be right to put you through having a child with me whilst allowing them to remain unhinged."

"Are you always this insufferable?" Malfoy demanded, shaking her a little.

"Are you always this much a stubborn fool?" Hermione retorted.

He made a noise of frustration before releasing her once more and continuing on down the corridor. Hermione didn't really know why she followed him. It was true that she didn't much like Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy. She didn't much like Draco either. She supposed it could be put down simply to morbid curiosity. She wanted to know what kind of state both of them were in after a prolonged stint in Azkaban.

When Draco stopped in front of a door with a glass pane in it, Hermione knew his parents must be inside that room. He turned the handle quickly and disappeared inside before Hermione followed him.

Right into the mayhem within.


	8. 8: Mudblood Madness

**Chapter 8: Mudblood Madness**

The room was alight with shouts of concern from the healers and utter shrieks from Narcissa Malfoy, who was awake and sitting up in bed, restrained with leather straps that kept her on the bed as she tried to free herself. Lucius appeared to still be unconscious, though his eyes were open and he stared vacantly at the ceiling of the ward. The healers were shouting at each other about how best to calm the shrieking woman while others were once again scuffling with Draco, who was desperately trying to reach his restrained mother.

"Draco!" the filthy, blonde woman in prison robes tied to the bed shrieked, "Where is my son? Draco where are you?"

Hermione could see that her eyes were wide with terror, her motions frantic despite the restraints on her wrists, ankles and thighs. It was clear that though she was screaming for her son, she had no idea where she was or that Draco was in the room. Hermione could tell that she was still suffering some kind of nightmare.

"Someone give her a Calming Draught!" one of the healers shouted over the noise.

Narcissa fought viciously against the pair of healers who tried, choking on the liquid and spitting most of it back up as she thrashed violently.

"Oh for Heaven's sake!" Hermione said, shoving her way into the room past where the healers were restraining Draco as he tried to reach his mother and past the healers who were recoiling in annoyance after having been spat on by the woman.

Hermione snatched up another Calming Draught from the table where they were kept.

"Narcissa!" Hermione said in a loud, sharp voice over the sound of her shrieks. The woman stopped shouting abruptly, her grey eyes fixed upon Hermione and alight with recognition.

"The mudblood girl," Narcissa muttered, reaching her hand out towards Hermione though she didn't get far before the restraints stopped her, "You! Have you seen my son?"

"I have, Narcissa," Hermione told the woman, coming closer until she was within reach, "He asked me to give you this. You need to drink it."

"What is it? What has my Draco given you for me?" Narcissa asked, her voice was rough and cracking from the amount of shrieking she'd been down, hoarse and ravaged.

"He said you would know," Hermione lied quickly, "He said that you would know and that you would drink it so he'd be able to come to find you."

Hermione flinched slightly when the witch snatched the potion out of Hermione's hands, uncorked it and downed the contents quickly. The effects were immediate, her taut body going lax against the pillows of the bed and her eyes losing their manic gleam.

"Let him go," Hermione told the healers who were still loosely holding Draco back. As soon as he was free Draco hurried to his mother's side.

"Mother?" he asked, his voice tight with worry and Hermione could see the concern etched into his face.

"Draco?" Narcissa whispered, turning to meet his gaze.

Hermione watched as tears of relief and happiness welled in Narcissa Malfoy's eyes and leaked down her grimy cheeks as Draco took her hands.

"It's me, Mother. It's alright. We're safe. You and Father are in the hospital. You need to relax, alright?" the blonde boy told his mother, reminding Hermione not of the intimidating wizard he could be when irate but instead of a little boy afraid for his mother.

"My Draco. My son," Narcissa muttered over and over. When she tried to reach for him and couldn't due to her bonds, Hermione waved her wand, releasing her arms and watching on as the witch pulled her son into a crushing embrace.

"How did you do that?" one of the healers who looked like he might be a trainee asked her, stepping close and speaking softly as mother and son were reunited.

"By being someone she recognised," Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"But she was manic. She shouldn't have recognised you. She was delirious with wanting to see her son, so much so that she didn't realise he was in the room," the healer protested.

"She knew he was here. But he was being restrained and shouting for her in distress. That only fuelled her manic behaviour," Hermione told the young man.

"Then why not just tell us to release him so he could go to her?"

"Because none of you would've listened," Hermione said simply, "Someone needs to see to Lucius too. He's awake."

She watched as the healers, who had all been focusing on the reunion of mother and son, suddenly recalled that there was another patient in the room. Hermione suspected that while Narcissa seemed to have her wits about her enough to recognise faces and to know she was once again in the presence of her son, Lucius was not so fortunate. He seemed catatonic as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling and oblivious to everything going on around him.

Hermione wondered as she watched him if he would ever be quite right again. She knew the brain was a powerful force to be reckoned with and that if his brain believed it was protecting him by blocking out everything then the healers would have a hard time bringing him out of his current mental slump.

"Draco, what was that mudblood doing conveying things from you to me?" Hermione heard Narcissa ask Draco quietly in the silence that followed as the healers began focusing their attention on Lucius, waving their wands and muttering spells to diagnose his current ailments and begin healing him.

"Don't use that word, Mother," Draco murmured back quietly in admonishment, "The war is over and the Dark Lord is vanquished. Blood mania is over. Granger was helping us because she'd responsible for my being able to get you and Father out of Azkaban."

"What have you done, Draco?" Narcissa asked and Hermione could see that the woman was already beginning to recover now that she had her son back and she was no longer locked in Azkaban.

"The Ministry offered us a deal," Draco murmured to his mother quietly, tucking a lank strand of hair behind her ear when it fell into her face, "In return for your freedom and Father's, and for the sum of fifty thousand Galleons, I must father a child with Hermione Granger."

"And she agreed to that idea?" Narcissa laughed clearly believing it to be a joke.

"They're giving her fifty thousand Galleons and restoring her parent's memories after she modified them to protect them during the war," Draco nodded, "In return, Granger and I have to have a child together. It's a ploy of the Ministry's to encourage more magical births after such losses during the war and to convince others that blood mania can be overcome and forgotten."

"This is not something to jest about Draco," Narcissa said sternly, her face regaining some of its colour beneath the layer of grime as she began to frown in concern.

"It's no jest, Mother. Hermione Granger will be the mother of your first grandchild and the mother of the next Malfoy heir. I've already signed the contract, which is why you've been brought here and will be released to the Manor on house-arrest once you're healed," Draco informed the woman, sitting up a little straighter and eyeing his mother nervously.

"You mean to father a half-blood?" she demanded and Hermione cringed.

"I mean to keep you and Father from losing your minds and you lives in Azkaban. That comes at the price of siring a half-blood child with one of the brightest and most formidable witches currently alive today, Mother. I expect you and Father to accept this and to realise that without this sacrifice made by me and by Granger, you would both rot in Azkaban prison until the day you both died," Draco retorted and Hermione was surprised and mildly flattered that he thought her to be so bright and formidable.

Narcissa pursed her lips for a moment before her piercing eyes scanned the room to land on Hermione once more. Hermione stood proud and undaunted as the soon-to-be grandmother of her child looked her over from head to foot. She didn't speak as her eyes trailed over every inch of Hermione from the array of curls atop her head to the black low-heeled boots adorning her small feet, but Hermione felt the weight of her judgement just the same.

"Need I remind you that the Malfoy name is one that is currently disgraced throughout the wizarding world, both among those who fought against the Dark Lord and those who fought for him? Among the three of us we named every Death Eater and associate who worked for the Dark Lord. Most of the free remaining pureblood families disdain us for our actions and the others openly despise us for landing members of their family in Azkaban. The only people who will even still speak to me are Blaise Zabini and Greg Goyle. There is no hope for recovering any kind of pureblood match and what's more, I don't want one," Draco informed his mother when she continued to eye Hermione with an unreadable expression on her grimy face.

"I beg your pardon?" Narcissa asked of Draco, turning her gaze on him at his words.

"You heard me, Mother," Draco said, "I don't want to wed and bed some pureblood witch to breed another pureblood heir for the sake of blood mania. Look at the mess blood mania landed all of us in. The world is doing away with Blood Mania, with some hefty incentives from the Ministry to do so. The Malfoy family will be among them. That's all there is to it."

Hermione watched the way Narcissa Malfoy eyed her son strangely for several long moments in total silence. She didn't know if it was his mother or Hermione herself that was the most surprised by Draco's pronouncement.

"Is she already pregnant?" Narcissa asked finally and Hermione felt a blush flood across her cheeks, realising that the woman must think that they'd already shagged and perhaps that Draco's change in attitude had something to do with him developing feelings for Hermione.

"No," Draco answered before shooting a semi-amused glance at Hermione, "I'm told there's a window of ovulation that must be utilised for that to occur."

Narcissa Malfoy looked stunned for a few minutes after that, her expression going slack with shock. And then she began to laugh. It began with a little snort of amusement but grew quickly to giggles and then the full-bellied laughter, her head thrown back as she laughed and laughed until tears of mirth ran down her cheeks.

In spite of herself, Hermione began to chuckle along with the woman, wondering idly if she had gone into information overload and become unhinged. Malfoy got up from his perch on the edge of his mother's bed when the healers began jostling him aside so they could diagnose and treat his mother before the Calming Draught wore off. He was smirking a little as he came towards Hermione and she noticed that he looked more cheerful than she'd seen him look in years.

She flinched a little when he stood beside her and took hold of her hand in his again.

"She likes you," he told her in a soft voice, watching as his mother giggled from the bed while the healers set about healing the damage done to her while she'd been in prison.

"You think so?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"Yes. I can tell," he nodded, still holding her hand.

"How?" Hermione wanted to know, recalling the judgemental eyes the woman had worn when looking at Hermione.

"She didn't start screaming," Malfoy replied, smirking at her crookedly, "Thank you for what you did."

Hermione stared up at him in surprise to hear the expression of gratitude on his lips.

"Not just with getting that Calming Draught into her, or telling me I was being an interfering git. Thank you for signing the contract and helping me get them out of that place," he went on sincerely. Hermione found herself wondering what had befallen Draco Malfoy that had so drastically changed his attitude towards her and towards muggle-borns like her. she knew some of the basics, such as being stuck on Voldemort's team and being shunned by the entire wizarding world in the aftermath of the war, but she suspected there must be much more to it than that. In fact she was beginning to think there might be a lot more to Draco Malfoy than she'd originally suspected too.

He held her hand in silence after that for a long while and Hermione didn't really know how to respond.

"Dare I ask what prompted you to make the decision so quickly when I gave you a week to make it?" he asked finally, glancing down at her.

Hermione bit her lip at the reminder of the fact that Ron had gone and signed his stupid contract before consulting her.

"The decision was taken out of my hands," Hermione answered quietly, "I didn't need to discuss the idea of going through with it or not with Ron. He'd already signed his by the time I got home, believing that I'd signed mine when he saw us holding hands to apparate."

"He lashed out spitefully," Malfoy nodded, looking unsurprised. Hermione nodded too, "Looks like you're stuck with me then, eh?"

Hermione glanced at him sideways for his tone as he said it, sounding mocking and yet chipper at the same time.

"Looks like it," Hermione replied dryly.

"You never answered my question about when this window of ovulation opens?" Malfoy told her seriously, smirking at her and clearly finding amusement in saying it as though her meant window of opportunity.

"Nine days from now," Hermione told him, "You're sure you're fine with me coming to Malfoy Manor for this?"

"I don't much fancy the idea of shagging you into exhaustion with Potter and Weasley in the next room, Granger," he replied, smirking now.

"Right," Hermione nodded, blushing.

"How much liquor do you think you'll need?" he asked her.

"How much have you got?" Hermione asked him, glancing up at his face.

"An entire cellar full of whiskey and another with wines. There's a vineyard on the ground of the Manor too," he replied seriously.

"Probably going to need all of it," Hermione answered seriously, unsure how much liquor it would take for her to be drunk enough to shag him.

"I peg you for a lightweight, we won't need all of it," he grinned, "But I'll have the elves on hand to fetch more if it becomes an issue. I'll open the East Wing fireplace to the floo network so you can get in, shall I?"

"Which one is the East Wing?" Hermione asked, "Last time I didn't get much of a look."

"The East is one you've never been anywhere, Granger. It's my wing. Mother refused to let Aunt Bella, the Dark Lord or anyone but me and her into my wing. She even blockaded it against Father," he informed her, and Hermione suspect that was his way of telling her it was nowhere near the drawing room where she'd been tortured.

"Do you want me to just floo over next Thursday then?" Hermione asked him.

Malfoy nodded, "Bring a bag. You're not leaving until you're pregnant."

"That sounds like a threat," Hermione said, feeling kind of nauseas.

"It is a threat," Draco told her, "You said this window is open for six days and after that it's shut for a month. So you're not leaving my bed until you're pregnant with my son."

"Do you think the healers would mind if I vomited here," Hermione asked, pointing vaguely towards the floor at her feet.

"Probably not, but you'd splatter my shoes and then I'd be annoyed," Malfoy said, looking amused rather than offended.

"Why do you keep referring to this child as your son?" Hermione asked him, noticing that he'd been saying 'son 'every time they spoke of the child they had to make, "There's just as much chance that it'll be a daughter."

"Malfoys always have sons, Granger," he told her seriously, "It's been that way for the past sixteen generations of Malfoys."

"Malfoys always have bratty little purebloods too, but that's going to change," Hermione told him impishly.

"You won't be using the word little in regard to me after next Thursday," Malfoy told her lasciviously and Hermione had to cover her mouth when she gagged, "Did you just gag?"

"I just gagged," Hermione confirmed, laughing a little when he looked a little miffed, "And besides, just because history suggests that we might indeed have a boy does not make it so."

"Either way you're not leaving my bed until you're pregnant," Malfoy told her, "And since we're supposed to share the bed and live together once you are, you might want to pack all your stuff."

"That's not happening," Hermione said, "I'm not moving in with you until we're back at Hogwarts and have no choice."

"I thought you read that contract we signed?" he said, "They'll make you, Granger. If you don't it violates the terms of the agreement and you risk losing the incentives we've bargained for."

"Hogwarts doesn't go back for almost a month!" Hermione protested, feeling her heart begin to race as panic began to set in.

"True. But you're not coming around for nine days. And then you're spending the following six drunk and shagging me. So it's only two weeks that you'd have to stay at the Manor once you're pregnant."

"Maybe I won't get pregnant," Hermione said.

"Maybe, but then you'd have to spend another sixs day next month shagging me until we pass out from exhaustion."

"Why did I agree to this again?" Hermione asked, her heart thumping wildly and her skin beginning to crawl at the idea of having that shag him for six days straight two months in a row.

"Because we both love our parents too much to want to avoid each other," Malfoy told her, his eyes straying back to where his parents were both resting easier in their beds, asleep now that the healers had done what they could.

"I'm leaving now," Hermione told him seriously, "Better make the most of having my bed all to myself while I still can."

"You better make the most of being a carefree kid too," Malfoy told her, "In a little over two weeks you're going to be the mother of my son for the rest of your life."

Hermione didn't know where he pulled the bucket from, but Malfoy managed to hand it to her just in time for her to vomit up her breakfast as that nugget of information sank into her brain.

"You're going to hurt my feelings if you keep that up," he told her chidingly as Hermione clutched her bucket, unsure if she needed it again.

"Merlin forbid," Hermione muttered darkly. Malfoy laughed and waved his wand, vanishing the evidence of her sudden sickness.

"I'll see you next week, Granger," he smirked at her when Hermione glanced at him one last time.

"Don't remind me," Hermione groaned, still clutching her bucket as she made her way towards the door. Malfoy laughed again when she waved half-heartedly before she exited the room and the hospital, her mind already dancing to all the things she wanted to do before she became a mother.


	9. 9: Positively Putrid

**Chapter 9: Positively Putrid**

Three days into her cycle, Hermione was feeling perfectly wretched. Coming off the contraceptive potions she'd been taking was causing her body to react with far more aggressiveness than her usual cycle did. She'd been curled up in bed for most of that time, with Harry and Ron both looking in on her occasionally and Kreacher plying her with several pots of Louts Mango, Red Raspberry Leaf and Chasteberry tea and with re-filled hot water bottles every hour on the hour.

Harry had sat with her for almost an hour that morning, informing her that he and Ginny had discussed the idea of agreeing to the matches they'd been given and had decided to forgo the incentives they'd been offered in favour of bartering a new match between the two of them. The Ministry – which was still sucking up to Harry in a huge way – had agreed to negotiate that he and Ginny would be given the same Galleon amount they'd each been offered for their Ministry Match, minus the additional incentives for job prospects, if they agreed to have a child as soon as possible.

They'd been trying already to get pregnant since Harry and Ginny had signed their contract the previous evening. He'd said that while he and Astoria had both been offered significant options for their match, they'd agreed they didn't want to breed. Apparently Astoria was a lovely girl in Ginny's year who knew how much Ginny loved Harry and vice versa. She also was reportedly betrothed to a French wizard who had objected to her having a child out of wedlock with a third-party, even if it was to be with the Boy Who Lived – Twice.

As she exited the bathroom after a long, relaxing soak in the tub, Hermione found herself in need of her slippers. She wanted to go to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, but there was no way she was going down there without her slippers to keep her feet warm and clean. The problem was that she'd left them in Ron's room. He'd come around a little after their fight, looking in on her suffering a few times and even coming in to snuggle her at one point when she'd been highly emotional and had started crying at the sight of him.

Sighing to herself over having to deal with him when she'd just gotten out of the tub, Hermione steeled herself against his moodiness. He'd gotten annoyed at her earlier in the day when they'd somehow talked their way around to the fact that they would both be shagging other people and having children with others and he'd stormed out.

Pushing open the door immediately after knocking and not waiting for a reply, Hermione was already calling out to him without thinking.

"Ron, did I leave my slippers in…" Hermione's words died right there on her tongue.

"Hermione, no, don't!" Harry's voice came from behind her where he was hurrying out of his room across the landing from Ron's.

But Hermione was barely aware of Harry's interruption. She was too focused on the sight before her. More precisely, the sight of a very naked Pansy Parkinson straddling a very naked Ron Weasley, his hands gripping her naked hips tightly and lifting her, encouraging her to bounce on his cock, which Hermione could see was imbedded deep inside Parkinson. On some psychological level, Hermione knew the pair must've been excessively drunk because they didn't even stop fucking despite their audience. But that mattered little in that moment. All Hermione was able to process was that her boyfriend was wildly shagging another woman, and both of them had even looked over at her with expressions of pleasure on their faces. All without ceasing their gyrating.

"Ah, shoot!" Hermione heard Harry curse behind her. She only really knew he was there because he was trying desperately to pull her out of the doorway and away from the horrifying scene.

The emotions that swept through Hermione were a combination of explosive rage, unbridled violence, and pure heartbreak – all of them heightened thanks to the fact that she was smack dab in the middle of the worst PMS of her life. Which Hermione supposed would have to be the defence she would use in court if she was put on trial when all the furniture in Ron's room suddenly burst into flames, quickly engulfing the shagging couple, who had begun to shriek and shout in surprise and pain.

Though she knew she had just cast the spells non-verbally and without the actual intent to do so, Hermione made no move to alleviate the predicament as everything in Ron's room began to burn, the flames licking hungrily at the curtains and engulfing the bed. In fact, Hermione found herself simply turning away from the scene as her boyfriend and his lover suffered several burns in the process of trying to rescue enough clothing to cover themselves while Harry began waving his wand to put out the flames.

She trudged out of the room with her heart in her proverbial shoes since she was still slipper-less. She didn't even feel the cold when she reached the kitchen and Kreacher came padding over towards her looking concerned by her fraught expression.

"Here you is, Miss," he said, patting her knee gently when Hermione dropped into a seat at the kitchen table. The elf pressed a cup of tea into her hands before returning with a plate of chocolate biscuits he'd clearly just finished baking. They were even still warm. On a deep psychological level, Hermione knew that the cookies tasted like heaven and that the way the chocolate chips melted onto her tongue was divine, but in her current emotionally traumatized and utterly devastated state Hermione was barely aware of the difference between the biscuits and cardboard.

By force of habit she put it in her mouth and chewed, washing it down with gulps of tea, but Hermione was on auto-pilot. Ron had been right there in the house, drunk and shagging that pug-nosed little tart! He had the nerve to lose his temper with her over the predicament they were in and over the notion of her needing to shag Malfoy and he was going to bring that sloppy whore into the house he shared with his girlfriend and fuck her stupid?

Dimly she was aware of the shouts coming from upstairs as Harry and Ron tried to fight the flames she had produced, accompanied by the cacophony of sound Parkinson was making as she shrieked. Hermione didn't really care if it was in pain or terror. All she knew was fury and heartbreak. It swept through her system like ice through her veins, simultaneously numbing her yet boiling her blood.

Vainly Hermione tried to talk herself out of her foul temper. It wasn't as though she hadn't known that in order to meet the terms of the contract he had signed, Ron needed to shag Pansy. It wasn't as though their relationship hadn't been on the rocks and doomed to failure now that they were both legally obligated to shag other people for the purpose of reproduction. It wasn't as though she hadn't been simultaneously planning for and dreading her own sexual escapades with Draco Malfoy.

But none of those facts made it any less a bitter pill to swallow, nor any less heartbreaking and horrifying to walk in on the man she loved rutting against the woman she hated more than almost any other on the planet. In her mind's eye Hermione could see them both eyeing her, pleasure written on their faces as they both looked at her, still shagging madly. Hermione hated herself for the way her mind wouldn't let the image go.

She also hated the way the little voices in her head began to whisper about how Ron had never shagged her with such vigour and how he'd never seemed so interested in shagging her as he'd looked to be in shagging Parkinson. The torture of the information tormented Hermione as she washed down the last of the biscuits Kreacher kept pressing on her, attempting to distract her.

Vaguely she knew the elf was muttering things to her, trying to gain her attention, trying to dab at the tears of fury that were trickling down her face.

"What the hell was that, Hermione?" Ronald roared, stumbling into the kitchen some time later in smouldering robes. He had some nasty looking burns on his hands and forearms.

"Knock it off, mate," Harry tried to intervene, clearly not wanting to risk the row and possible violence about to unfold in his kitchen. Parkinson was sobbing softly as she followed both men into the kitchen, her body barely hidden, holding her extremities aloft and shaking with the pain at the several nasty burns that had licked at her flesh.

Hermione lifted her head slowly to meet the blood-shot gaze of her former lover and she felt an ugly hateful fury blossom with her.

"Don't you dare!" Hermione warned him, her voice low, cold and dangerous.

"You set me on fucking fire, woman!" Ron shouted at her, clearly too drunk to pick up on the fact that he was flirting with disaster to be further provoking the emotionally distressed witch.

"Ron, don't," Harry warned, eyeing Hermione like she might cause another spontaneous combustion and destroy his house.

"If only you'd charred to a crisp," Hermione snarled back at Ron, coming to her feet so quickly that Kreacher had to stumble back from her and snatch her dropped tea cup out of the air before it could shatter on the stone floor.

"What's your bloody problem?" Ron demanded, his voice a little slurred. Hermione didn't doubt that the bastard was drunk off his arse, but it mattered little to her.

"My problem is that your very presence is offensive to me. Get out of my sight before another catastrophe befalls you Ronald Weasley. Or so help me you'll burn until the flesh melt right off your bones!"

"Hermione, please!" Harry tried to intervene again, clearly fearing more for Ron's life than anything else when he saw the manic glint in her brown eyes.

"Don't defend him Harry. He dragged that slut into this house without even having the decency to warn me. He did this to us! He tore us apart! Like the childish, pathetic, vindictive arse that he is, he lashed out at me and got himself in this mess with that pug-faced whore. He didn't for a second stop to consider my feelings and he had the indecency to smirk at me when I walked in on them! He's lucky he still has a fucking face!"

Hermione fumed and she groped inside her pocket for her wand, meaning to curse the pair of them. Harry saw her plan before she could enact it.

"Kreacher, get Hermione out of here. Take her somewhere safe until she's back in control of herself," he commanded of the elderly house elf. Kreacher had no choice but to obey him and Hermione shrieked with fury when his bony little hand clamped tightly around her wand arm and they both disapparated with a crack.

"You is needing to be calm now, Miss," Kreacher told her when they landed wherever he had taken her.

"I'm going to kill that bastard!" Hermione shouted, losing her grip on reason and rationality as her mind tormented her with images of her lover with another and her heart cracked and shattered inside her chest, causing her whole body to throb painfully. To make matters worse her PMS cramps kicked into an even higher gear than they'd been in before, her stomach cramping so severely that Hermione fell to her knees on the floor of the bedroom she'd been transported to, clutching her stomach as the agony over took her.

"Let Kreacher take care of everything Miss. Kreacher will fetch the Master. Kreacher will help Miss," the elf muttered, using magic to transport Hermione onto the bed before pulling a Calming Draught out of his pillow-slip uniform and prying her jaws apart despite the way she gritted her teeth, screaming through them in agony. He poured the potion into her mouth and clamped his hand over her mouth until she swallowed it.

Hermione had no idea where she was or even why any of it mattered. All she knew was pain as she drifted into delirium.

~O~

When she opened her eyes again, Hermione was uncomfortably aware of the fact that there was someone leaning over her staring intently at her face.

"Are you awake?" he asked in a curious voice as though he was uncertain but also mildly intrigued.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking.

She knew she was laying on her back on what she suspected must be a bed, but she had no idea where she was or even what day it was. She was also alarmed to find herself staring into the stormy grey eyes of Draco Malfoy from less than a foot away.

"You are awake," he said, sounding amused now, "Do you know where you are?"

"Why are you leaning over me like this?" Hermione demanded, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Checking to make sure you're still alive," he informed her and Hermione felt a momentary panic seize her, "Now answer my questions. Do you know where you are?"

"No," Hermione admitted, "Though since you're here I can only assume it must be somewhere close to hell."

"My, aren't those claws sharp this morning?" he smirked, looking wickedly amused by her words as he leant back a little as though he was aware of the way she'd begun trying to press herself further back into the mattress to get away from him.

"What are you doing here? Where am I?" Hermione wanted to know.

"You're at Malfoy Manor. Kreacher brought you here and fetched me from down the hall. He said you set Potter's house on fire and started screaming. He also said you needed Pain Relief potions and something to make you sleep so that you wouldn't 'set the ginger master on fire again'," Malfoy informed her, "I've been drugging you for two days now."

"You took care of me?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"No, I just drugged you. The elves took care of everything else. Are you in pain?"

"I'm getting a headache," Hermione informed him, clutching her head as she tried to understand what was going on, "Why did Kreacher bring me here?"

"He said Potter told him to bring you somewhere safe until you calmed down. I hear you set Weasley on fire?"

"It wasn't entirely on purpose," Hermione told him when she noticed his expression of approval and amusement, "I walked in on him drunk and shagging that pug-nosed whore. PMS combined with blind violent rage might've resulted in spontaneous combustion of everything in his bedroom…"

"Including the happy couple, I hear," Malfoy smirked and Hermione was surprised when she felt an answering smirk grace her lips for a moment, appreciating that rather than scolding her for her behaviour he looked as though he approved. It was a rather odd change from the reactions she'd come to expect of others in such situations and she idly noticed the difference between people like Harry and people like Malfoy.

"Were they badly injured? I was too furious to really examine their injuries," Hermione asked, feeling a bit guilty, though not enough to think about apologising.

"Pansy needed some of the Burn Gel they usually use only for victims of Dragon attacks, so yes," Malfoy told her, "Though I expect they're fine by now after the healers saw to them."

"So much for seeing them suffer," Hermione muttered grumpily, sitting up slowly in the bed and realising she was in what appeared to be a bedroom, "Is there as reason you're in bed with me?"

"This is my bed, and it's morning. So yes, there is. This is where I sleep," he told her and Hermione kind of wanted to punch him for sounding so chipper. As he pulled back further from her so she could prop herself up against the headboard, Hermione noticed idly that he was shirtless, and that his blonde hair was rumpled as though he'd woken recently.

"You've been sleeping next to me for two days?" Hermione asked, unsure exactly how she felt about that.

"Technically you were in a potion induced state of unconsciousness for your own safety and wellbeing," Malfoy corrected her, "But yes. I've been drugging you to keep you out of it. Every time you started to wake up you'd scream and clutch your stomach and your chest. I had the healers examine you last night when I couldn't get you to stop."

Hermione didn't think she'd ever felt so embarrassed in all her life. And that included the time that she'd forgotten to lock the bathroom door whilst she'd been soaking in the tub and Harry had accidentally walked in on her, dropping the robe he'd been wearing before he realised she was there.

"If I'd known life would turn out like this, I don't think I'd have fought so hard to survive the war," Hermione muttered, sliding right back down in the bed and placing a pillow over her head, wondering how hard it would be to will herself into a coma to avoid the disaster that had become her life.

"I'm not that bad, you know?" Malfoy laughed and Hermione found herself enjoying the sound of his amusement. If he'd been Harry, Ron, or anyone else she ordinarily associated she'd be being berated and scolded for her emotional outburst, and probably be being asked invasive questions about her state of well-being and metal status. Instead Malfoy just seemed kind of amused.

"Maybe," she agreed with his assertion, "But the idea of having to shag you makes me nauseas, and after the past few days and everything that's happened, I think it might've been easier not to make it through the war."

"Do you need a shrink?" he asked seriously and Hermione knew that the way she was talking was probably alarming.

"No," she sighed, lifting the pillow enough to glance at him for a minute, "I just feel wretched."

"That's what you get for loving a git, I suppose," Malfoy nodded and Hermione glanced at him again. He'd stretched out on his stomach beside her on the bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow and his face pointed towards her. He didn't seem at all uncomfortable by the idea of having her seeing him shirtless and Hermione tried to keep her eyes focused on his face rather than his bared back.

"A mistake I won't be making again," Hermione said seriously, frowning at the mention of Ron once more before realising she was going to have to work on getting over him, "So, how come you just let me stay in your bed?"

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, "Figured I might as well get used to sharing the bed with you. Thought it might be easier if you were unconscious for most of it, but I've since learned that even unconscious you have a penchant for hitting me."

"I hit you?" Hermione asked, lifting her head to look at him across the pillows.

"Three times," he nodded, "The first one I thought you must've woken up and realised where you were, but then you muttered something about cheating bastards and passed out again."

"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned, rolling over and pressing her face into the pillow once more so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. Especially since he looked wickedly amused by the entire situation.

"I take it you're feeling better and not in agonizing pain anymore?" he asked her.

"Nothing unmanageable," Hermione answered, her voice muffled by the pillow, which she vaguely notice smelled like apples and the cologne he wore.

"Does that mean you'll get out of bed today?" he asked her, "Do you want breakfast?"

Hermione kind of wanted to roll over and pretend it was all a terrible nightmare she was having, but she suspected that wasn't an option.

"I suppose that might be nice," she sighed, thinking about going back to sleep despite spending the past two days sedated.

"Flibbet!" Draco called out before a house elf appeared with a crack.

"How can Flibbet be of service, master?" a young elf asked, looking eager to please.

"Could you prepare some breakfast for Granger and I?" Draco asked the bat-eared creature.

"Of course, master! Was there something particular you would like, Miss?" the elf said, turning to Hermione with hopeful eyes. Hermione suspected the elf must already know what Draco liked.

"Could I have some bacon with toast, a side of scrambled eggs and a few hash brown please Flibbet?" Hermione asked politely, smiling at the cheerful creature despite her bad mood and despite having woken up in bed with Malfoy.

"Right away Miss!" Flibbet promised, looking delighted before he disappeared again, no doubt to prepare their breakfast.

Hermione opened her mouth when he was gone, intent on asking Malfoy why he was being so accommodating after her little breakdown, but before she could, there was another crack in the air before Krecher appeared and hurried over to the side of the bed.

"Miss, you is awake!" he cried, looking very happy indeed by that prospect, "Kreacher has been worried about you Miss. Kreacher brought you more tea and those vitamins the healers gave you."

The elf presented a tea tray which did indeed contain a pot of tea and a little plate with the vitamins and things that the doctor had told her to take.

"Thank you Kreacher. I'm terribly sorry to have worried you. I didn't mean to lose my head like that," Hermione apologised to him sincerely, feeling bad about her outburst and the fact that elf had been forced to take care of her.

"Kreacher lives to serve, Miss," Kreacher assured her, pouring the tea from the pot into a cup for her when she didn't immediately do so herself. The elf glanced at her when she picked it up, looking a little bit furtive.

"Kreacher doesn't mean to presume the Miss's habits, but is this supposing to be like this, Miss?"

Hermione flinched back minutely when the elf reached hesitantly for something at chest level and she glanced down to see what he was talking about. A blush flooded to her cheeks when she noticed that she was still wearing the same robe she'd donned after climbing out of the bath days ago. The one she'd been wearing when she went in search of her slippers. And it had dipped very suggestively towards revealing her assets to the room at large.

In fact, in the days since she'd been brought there and kept sedated, it seemed her robe had fallen open to reveal that she wore only knickers and a satin brasserie underneath. Hermione wanted to die.


	10. 10: Living Life

**Give Unto Me**

 **Chapter 10: Living Life**

* * *

Hermione cut her eyes across to Malfoy, who was still laying on his stomach, his arms around his pillow, his head turned towards her.

"You're a right git, you know that?" she demanded when she caught his grey eyes focused not on her face but on the fact that her robe had fallen open, revealing the swell of her cleavage inside her pink satin bra, in addition to a strip of taut stomach and her knickers.

"Am not," he smirked, his eyes still notably on her cleavage instead of her face. Hermione scowled and tugged the robe closed in annoyance.

"You weren't going to say anything about that, were you?" Hermione asked him, still blushing furiously.

"Nope," he grinned, his eyes returning to her face once her cleavage was hidden, "Where would be the fun in that?"

"You're a terrible person," Hermione informed him, swatting him with the pillow she pulled from beneath her.

"Not I'm not. If I was a terrible person, I'd have copped a feel while you were unconscious," he told her, snatching the pillow out of her grip.

"Did you?" Hermione demanded, horrified by the notion that she'd been unconscious and in his bed for two days, completely vulnerable to him. She squawked in surprise and outrage when he clobbered her over the head with the pillow he'd taken from her.

"No. I didn't. I don't know why you're making a big deal about it anyway. I'm going to be getting up close and personal with all of you, and I'm going to see you naked when we shag. Why are you so upset that I've seen some of your underthings?"

Hermione whacked him with her pillows again in retaliation, blushing crimson once more. She cried out in surprise when he immediately returned the favour, rolling over and whacking her with his pillow, a wicked glint coming into his eyes.

"I hate you, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione announced hitting him back in outrage and fending him off when he attacked with his pillow playfully, laughing at her and goading her on.

"Is that the best you can do Granger?" he teased, rolling out of bed and out of her reach when she started trying to beat him over the head with her pillow some more, "I see you in those fancy knickers and the most you're going to do is blush? Who knew such an innocent little Gryffindor would own silky knickers?"

He goaded her from the far side of the bed, dancing close enough to whack her before skittering away out of her reach when Hermione tried to hit him back. Her frustration mounted quickly and Hermione rolled across the bed, forgetting about dignity in favour of clobbering him with her pillow. Kreacher squawked when the tea-tray he'd brought her rattled precariously, sloshing tea over the edge of her cup and sending the bottles of pills rolling away. Malfoy whacked her again as she rolled to her feet and Hermione retaliated with solid whump across his face.

She giggled in spite of herself when he grunted in surprise and retaliated.

The pillow fight was in full swing, Hermione having gathered a second pillow from the bed and using two to repeatedly swat Malfoy. In spite of the terrible past few days she'd had, she found herself laughing at the utter absurdity of having a pillow fight with Draco Malfoy in his bedroom inside Malfoy Manor. Especially considering that he was dressed only in a pair of blue silk boxers and she wore only a bathrobe and her knickers. It was entirely unlike her to ever do something so unrestrained and though she would never admit it aloud, Hermione was rather enjoying the moment.

"Oi!" Malfoy shouted in frustration when Hermione swatted him repeatedly, one after another with the pillows. She batted at him wildly and without reprieve. All he could do was hold his own pillow up like a rather ineffective shield. Hermione was having the best time whumping him repeatedly, laughing and actually enjoying herself.

She gasped in surprise when he dropped his pillow, ducked underneath both of hers weapons and wrapped his arms around her legs, lifting her and toppling them both backwards onto the bed. Hermione shrieked as she began to fall, Malfoy still clutching her before she landed on her back with Draco Malfoy between her bent up knees. He laughed in her face when he lifted his upper-half off her to peer down at her, clearly just as aware of the fact that amid the shenanigans her robe had come open again as Hermione was.

Meaning her bare legs were wrapped around his bare hips, and that her stomach and chest were open to his gaze. Hermione felt a blush crawl up her neck to stain her cheeks crimson when she felt her body respond to the position. She might not be a fan of Draco Malfoy, but her body didn't seem to care about that right in that instance and Hermione cursed the supplements the healer had given her that were supposed to increase her libido. Her body tingled with need and Hermione bit her lip on the pulse of desire that swept through her system.

An odd expression crept across Malfoy's face as he peered down at her, clearly just as surprised to suddenly find himself well within her personal space and Hermione wondered if, like her, he was suddenly realising that they'd been having fun with one another. Hermione could feel a blush crawling up her cheeks the longer he looked, his eyes straying from her eyes to fix on her lips as though he meant to kiss her. Her tongue darted out to moisten them in a subconscious response while Hermione wildly debated whether she ought to ruin the moment by pointing out that having been unconscious for two days she probably had morning breath that could kill a troll.

She also desperately wanted time to examine the notion that her body was responding to his and that she found herself wanting him to lean down and snog her. She was so focused on the situation in fact, that Hermione missed the crack of apparation that sounded beyond the bed.

"Hermione, Kreacher told me you were finally awake and feeling better… oh my Merlin, what is going on here?" Harry Potter's voice could be heard from somewhere above her head and Hermione jolted out of her fixation on Malfoy's mouth, her eyes closing in horror.

"You're interrupting Potter!" Malfoy drawled and Hermione blushed crimson when he didn't even have the decency to get off her or react at all beyond sounding annoyed with Harry, "How did you even get in here? You're not welcome in my bedroom."

Hermione marvelled at Draco Malfoy's ability to sound so positively condescending and offended whilst caught in such a perilously scandalous position. In fact he didn't seem even a little bit embarrassed about being caught in his boxers and looking very much like he was seducing her.

"I had Kreacher bring me over to make sure Hermione was alright…." Harry began, automatically answering the question before trailing off with a distinctly awkward tension that made Hermione want to melt through the bed.

"Well, could you come back later?" Malfoy asked sounding snotty and yet wickedly amused at the same time, "I'm a little busy seducing her right now and you're making things awkward."

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in outrage at his blunt dismissal of Harry.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

"Get off me, would you? And stop being a git to Harry."

"Is this how things are going to be? You can't just boss me around like I'm some snotty first year Granger. Now hush while I woo you into submission," Hermione could tell he was having entirely too much fun tormenting her and making Harry uncomfortable.

"Uh… I'm going to go, Hermione," Harry announced, stammering and blushing red on her behalf when Malfoy made to nuzzle into her neck, "I'll um… catch up with you… later."

"No, Harry don't go," Hermione called out, not trusting herself to continue to be alone with Malfoy, "Malfoy's just being a git. Get off me, you big oaf!"

"I'm busy right now," Malfoy replied without lifting his face from where he'd nuzzled in under her chin and had begun tormenting her flesh with little nips and kisses that made Hermione's heart race with shock and desire.

Hermione closed her eyes in horror once more when Harry disapparated looking a little green around the gills, his cheeks scarlet at having interrupted them.

"Damn it Malfoy," Hermione groaned in annoyance, finally managing to shove him off her once Harry was gone.

"What?" Malfoy asked and Hermione glared at him across the bed.

"Could you have been any more of a git? Poor Harry will be scarred for life over this!"

"Serves him right for barging in without an invitation," Malfoy replied but Hermione could tell he was entirely too pleased with himself for having gotten her caught by one of her best friends in such a compromising position.

"I'm going to shower," Hermione announced, not at all fancying the idea of tolerating him any longer, her headache returning.

"Kreacher brought all your things here, so your stuff is out here when you need it," Malfoy called from behind her as Hermione stomped towards the en-suite she could see through the next room off his enormous bedroom. When she glanced over her shoulder she noticed that he was stretched out on the bed, lying on his back with one arm thrown lazily over his eyes. He clearly didn't care that she might be watching him, or that he was half-naked.

Hermione rolled her eyes in self-disgust when a little voice in her head pointed out that he had nothing to be embarrassed over.

 **~O~**

"So, what's on your list of things to do before you're tied down being a mother for the rest of your life?" Malfoy asked a half hour later when Hermione had joined him at the table in his bedroom suite. She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth to stare at him.

He still hadn't bothered to don any extra clothing, sitting there in his blue silk boxers like he hadn't a care in the world. Hermione could see the angry red scar on his left forearm, the remnant left behind of his Dark Mark. He made no effort to hide it from her and Hermione wondered where he got his nerve. Not that she was offended by the sight. She imagined that she'd be more offended if he'd tried to hide it and made a big deal about it. He didn't. Just like she had a scar marring her forearm that she refused to hide, Malfoy was open about his own blemish.

Hermione begrudgingly admitted that she admired him for it. She'd attempted to get dressed properly after her shower, but he'd insisted she not bother and Hermione was alarmed by the incredibly casual and comfortable nature of the breakfast they were sharing, him dressed in naught but boxers and Hermione herself clad in only a pink silk night-gown.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, "Like, what have I wanted to see or do?"

He nodded at her, his mouth full of toast.

"Well, I always wanted to go to Paris and snog someone on top of the Eiffel Tower, to be honest," Hermione admitted, unsure why she was telling him but realising that it was the truth.

"You want to go?" he asked seriously and Hermione's eyes bulged in surprise.

"What?"

"I said do you want to go? We can go later today if you like?" he offered.

"We can't just jet off to Paris for the day," Hermione protested, her mind boggling a little.

"Granger, I have more money than can ever be spent. Literally. And we've got four days left to be young, carefree adults before I'm going to knock you up. If you want to go to Paris, then let's go to Paris," he told her seriously.

"Have you lost your mind?" she wanted to know, frowning at him.

"It's certainly a possibility," Malfoy smirked, "I've spent most of the past few months locked up in the Manor talking to myself, so I could've cracked."

"You want to go to Paris with me?" Hermione asked in disbelief, "Just like that, out of the blue?"

"Yep," he answered, "Pack a bag for a few days. I want to see a lot more than a silly Tower before I'm tied to you through a kid forever. Come on, get dressed."

He urged her to her feet, taking hold of her hand and tugging her until she was standing. Hermione squawked when he stepped closer and began untying the sash on her robe, stripping it off her shoulders and pushing it to the floor before she could protest. She stood before him in her underwear, her cheeks slowly turning pink and he smirked even wider.

When he wandered away and began rummaging through a large walk-in robe, Hermione wondered if he actually might be crazy. He didn't bat an eye at seeing her so scantily clad, or at the way she made a confused, garbled sound when he tossed a summer dress at her from within his wardrobe. One of hers. As though her things were also stored in there already.

"Are you seriously this… unaffected by the fact that we're both half-naked?" Hermione asked him, following him into the wardrobe even as she pulled on the dress he'd chucked at her.

"Granger, I've spent the past two days with you lying unconscious in my bed. When you weren't unconscious, you were screaming and sobbing and writhing in agony. It's safe to say that any boundaries that might've existed based on us hating each other have been at least temporarily forgotten. Just don't make it weird, alright?"

"You're not feeling awkward around me?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Well, I wasn't until you started going on about it," he replied and Hermione watched him find a pair of muggle jeans, pulling them on over his boxers before locating a wizarding band t-shirt and pulling that on over his head. It was safe to say she'd never seen him look so much like a normal teenage boy. Ordinarily he wore suits and dress robes or his school uniform. She'd never seen him in anything else. Besides his boxers, of course.

"How can you be this nonchalant?" Hermione wanted to know, frowning at him in confusion, "You and I disdain each other, and yet you just spent a civil morning with me, including having a pillow fight, all dressed in only your underwear."

"Granger, would you just leave it alone before you make everything completely awkward. I'm trying to be civil and I'm trying to fake that we're friends long enough that we can actually learn to tolerate each other. Don't ruin it," he admonished, snagging a light jacket of hers off one of the hangers in his wardrobe and pressing it into her hands.

Hermione blinked in surprise at him, figuring she could probably do that. She could fake a friendship with him until she could stand him. Or she could at least try.

"Do I want to know why all of my things are hanging in your closet?" Hermione asked him seriously when she noticed most of her things hanging there.

"Kreacher lost his head when he couldn't help you," Malfoy shrugged, "He was wandering around muttering about insensitive ginger bastards and pug-faced harpies, wringing his hands together and constantly getting in the way. Midway through yesterday afternoon when you woke and started to scream again he completely freaked out. He started popping in and out, lugging all of your belongings into my house. Including your cat. He ignored me when I tried to talk to him too. Pretty sure he was ignoring Potter as well."

"He brought all my things here and unpacked them?" Hermione asked, shocked by his behaviour.

"That elf seems to adore you," Malfoy pointed out seriously folding several changes of clothes and putting them in a small trunk.

"He usually barely tolerates me. He's been brainwashed to dislike muggle-borns…" Hermione protested, confused by the idea that Kreacher had reacted that way.

"Guess he changed his mind when he found out you're going to be the incubator for the next heir to the Black family bloodline," Malfoy shrugged, "But he brought _all_ your stuff here. Your cat freaked out when it saw me and tried to claw my face off."

Hermione laughed at that.

"Ginny might've taught him to attack a rather life-like doll that looked similar to you in an attempt to use him as a weapon against you whilst at Hogwarts. I'm surprised he hadn't attacked you before now, to be honest," Hermione told him.

"You taught your cat to attack me on sight?" Malfoy asked, looking amused and annoyed at that idea.

"It's was Ron's idea, but Ginny ran with it. We had too much free time during the summer before sixth year…" Hermione shrugged, copying his actions and packing several changes of clothes into a bag.

"Delightful," Malfoy rolled his eyes at her.

"Are you seriously going to just take us off to Paris for the day?" Hermione asked him.

He paused in his packing to smirk at her.

"I'm taking you everywhere. I want to do a lot of things that I won't be able to once we have a kid and have to act like responsible adults. We've got four days to kill. I hope you don't need sleep."

"How are we getting to Paris?" Hermione wanted to know, following him out into the bedroom once more.

"Portkey, of course," he rolled her eyes at her, "Flibbet! Make sure that ginger monster of a cat gets fed while we're gone. If Kreacher comes back fretting about Hermione tell him she's fine and we'll be back in a few days."

Hermione barely had time to collect her jacket and slip her feet into a pair of ballet flats before Malfoy snatched up her hand and dragged her over to the fireplace, climbing in with her and Flooing them both to the Ministry

* * *

 **A/N: Dear everyone! Thank you all so much for all you kind words of encouragement between updates. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this fic, along with many of my others. What do you think of this one so far? Are you enjoying it? What are some of the things you'd all like to achieve if you could go anywhere and sww anything before having your life interrupted forever? HAPPY NEW YEAR CHERUBS! xx-Kitten**


	11. 11: Exciting Enthrallment

**A/N: Have I told you what darlings you all are for all the love and support you've been plying me with during my bouts on inspiration-blockage on this fic? You're all such gems. I hope you enjoy the new update and I promise to be better about posting more frequently. Don't forget to review! Much love! xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Give Unto Me**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Exciting Enthrallment**

* * *

"What's your next portkey out of the country?" Malfoy was asking the pretty witch at the International Transportation office. She was older than them by at least five years, but that didn't stop her eyeing Malfoy hungrily. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was still holding her hand, having refused to release her once they'd arrived at the Ministry, where he'd proceeded to drag her through the Ministry by the hand until they reach the office where they were now.

Hermione had caught several people looking at them with surprise and some concern, but she'd waved away the two lovely older gentlemen who'd made to come over and offer their assistance to her to get rid of the git clinging to her.

"The next Portkey to leave the Ministry is headed to Sri Lanka," the witch informed Malfoy, "It leaves in five minutes."

"We'll both be taking it," Malfoy told the lady.

"Passage is twelve galleons a piece," the witch said and Malfoy handed her the right money. Hermione tried to protest having him pay for her.

"You can't pay for me to travel the world with you," she protested weakly when the witch let them both into the waiting station for the portkey.

"Hush, woman," Malfoy shushed her, still holding her hand, "I have more money than I could ever hope to spend and I want to see the world before I have to knock you up."

"Doesn't explain why you're taking me with you," Hermione grumbled, trying to wriggle her hand free of his when she caught some foreign wizards eyeing the curiously.

"Because you've been unconscious for days after your boyfriend cheated on you," he shrugged, "And because you decided to shag me and have my kid as a favour to both of us to get our parents back. I mean, I'm not saying we're the best of friends, but even I'm not that big of an arse as to watch you suffer the worst week of your life without trying to help."

Hermione eyed him carefully. She was still mildly uncomfortable in his presence, despite the way their morning had gone. She was also horribly aware that she hadn't had time to get back to Harry.

"Kreacher?" she asked suddenly, and she smiled when the elf popped into the room beside her.

"Mistress?" Kreacher asked bowing low, "You summoned Kreacher."

"Yes, could you please let Harry know that I'll be out of the country for a little while with Malfoy. And that I'm sorry about this morning. I don't have time to send an owl," Hermione told the elf seriously.

"You is leaving miss?" Kreacher asked, stricken, "But Miss, Kreacher must take care of you!"

I'll be back Kreacher," she promised, "It will only be a few days."

"But Mistress you is needing to be getting pregnant with Master Draco's babies," Kreacher protested just as an announcement was made that the portkey to Sri Lanka would be leaving in one minute.

"We don't have to be in Britain for that, Kreacher," Malfoy interrupted, "But we should be back in four days."

Kreacher continued to look stricken.

"We have to go, Kreacher, but please pass on my messages to Harry. I'll see you in a few days, alright?" Hermione told him, moving with Draco – who still held her hand – over to the portkey (a bright pink Frisbee) and holding onto it.

Kreacher nodded his head, though his old eyes filled with tears. He Disapparated with a crack just before the Portkey activated, transporting them away. Hermione clutched Malfoy's hand ever tighter, clinging to him when they spun and spun across the world to land in Sri Lanka. She sprawled on the ground unceremoniously before she managed to roll on top of Malfoy.

"Right there, Granger?" he smirked at her when he found himself on his back on the grass with the little witch staring into his face and sprawled across his chest.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I really hate portkeys."

"That was a long one," he nodded, "We'll do small jumps for the rest of the trip, alright?"

Hermione nodded, getting off him quickly and to her feet, pulling him up by their joined hand.

"Hello and welcome to Sri Lanka," and Indian wizard greeted them, "Those of you here as tourists, please take the exit to your left and our helpful tour witches will assist you with your stay. Those residents of Sri Lanka, please exit to your right."

Hermione and Malfoy moved off through the left exit where a pretty Indian witch with a bright red bindi on her forehead.

"Hello, welcome to Sri Lanka," she greeted them politely, "My name is Ravi, how may I direct your stay in Sri Lanka?"

"We're not staying long," Malfoy told the witch, "What do you recommend we see that will only take a few hours?"

"Just a day visit?" she asked, "Oh, you must visit the Sigiriya palace, followed by the Dambulla Cave Temple, and the Yala National Park where you will see elephants, and leopards on Safari. I will get you a guide so you can apparate between locations quickly, if you wish?"

"Yes, do that," Malfoy nodded, "Do you take the same currency as in Britain?"

"We do at the Sri Lankan Ministry," the witch told him, "You will need to exchange some coins if you wish to purchase anything while in our country that you do not purchase through the ministry."

"Do you have an exchange desk?" Malfoy asked next.

"Yes, of course," Ravi told them," Just over there. If you'd like to exchange your funds while I arrange a guide for you, you're more than welcome."

"Good show, then," Malfoy said, surprising Hermione with his older-gentleman-like statement before he dragged her over to the exchange desk.

He handed over ten Galleons in exchange for the Indian wizarding currency, smiling at the goblin running the desk.

"I'm also looking for a goblin-made silver bracelet," Hermione heard him tell the goblin, "And idea where I can get one?"

The goblin eyed him coldly, refusing to tell him anything until Malfoy slipped him a few extra galleons. She was surprised when the goblin pulled one out of his coat pocket and handed it to Draco.

"You knew he sold them?" Hermione asked curiously, as Malfoy accepted the delicate silver chain from the goblin with a grin.

"While you were talking to Kreacher one of the locals who was taking the Portkey was taking about it to his friend in the station," Draco shrugged.

Hermione blinked when he released her hand for the first time since they'd left Malfoy Manor startling her when he lifted her wrist before affixing the silver chain around her wrist.

"What are you doing?" she asked him curiously, feeling just a little bit suspicious.

"I'll have you know, Granger, that Malfoy men are far from stupid. I happen to know that when I knock you up you're going to have comparably the best and worst nine months of your life. Magical pregnancies are hard and they drive witches totally bonkers. So I'm giving you a present in advance. And over the next four days we're going to fill this thing with charms from everywhere we go and everything we see that strikes your fancy. Then, when you're pregnant and lamenting agreeing to do this and cursing my name and flinging things at my head, you'll be able to look at it and remember all the wonderful things we'll see and do in the four days before I take you home and knock you up."

Hermione stared at him incredulously, wondering if he really had lost his mind. Not that she didn't think it was an impossibly sweet gesture. She eyed the goblin-made silver glittering on her wrist, currently free of charms and she found herself smiling just the tiniest bit when he took her hand inside his again, leading her back over to the tour guide Ravi had found for them.

Hermione barely caught the wizard's name before they apparated to Sigiriya and were being shown through an ancient palace. She wanted to stop and look at everything. Wanting to read the history and the plaques all over the place but Draco rarely let her. There was simply too much to cover in so little time. She realised when she found herself on safari and discovered him aiming a camera – which he'd bought at the Cave Temple - at her face and snapping a picture of her with a herd of elephants in the background that he was doing his utmost to make this the trip of a lifetime while squeezing it into four days.

A thrum of excitement zinged through her blood at the idea that she had four days to get as comfortable with him as possible and to make this trip as memorable as could be. He'd already succeeded at taking her mind off Ron and Pansy. She was going to shag him for a week straight and Hermione realised she was going to have to be far more comfortable with him by then unless she wanted to get black-out drunk – which would be inconvenient, she supposed since she would have to continue to shag him for the following six days after that.

Grinning widely at him, Hermione snatched the camera from him, leaned over until she had her arm thrown around his shoulders and aimed the camera at the pair of them. Malfoy was eyeing her curiously as she turned to face him in the picture, smiling widely at him as she snapped the picture. The flash went off and the camera printed out a copy of the image from the bottom of it. Hermione laughed as she released Malfoy again, snatching up the photo and waving it in the breeze until it dried.

She smiled at the way she was beaming at him in the picture while he blinked at her curiously, a small twitch of his lips indicating that he was pleased and thinking of smiling it return. In the back of the photo she'd managed to catch the elephant herd milling around in the watering hole. She showed it to him cheerfully and he looked at it pensively for a moment. Hermione took it back from him and tucked it into the purse she was carrying, putting it with the others he'd taken so far since he bought the camera. Hermione turned the camera on him when she looked up and found him watching the elephants with a small grin on his face.

He glanced sideways at her midway through the shot and Hermione was very pleased with the image when it printed out, because he continued to grin even as he looked at her behind the camera.

"Hungry yet?" he asked her when the Safari ended. He'd been buying charms for her bracelet all morning and Hermione already had one of an elephant, one of a leopard and one that looked like the Sigiriya dangling from her wrist.

"Not really," Hermione admitted.

"Me neither. Let's go to the Ministry and see where we're headed next," he snagged up her hand once more, conjuring a neck-strap for the camera so she could use her other hand for anything she wanted.

They practically ran into the Ministry, thanking their guide and being directed to the Transportation office.

"When's your next portkey out of the country?" Draco asked, grinning at Hermione when she snapped a picture of him doing so.

"Portkey to China leaving in fifteen minutes," the witch told them, "Or one to Australia in twenty minutes."

Malfoy looked at her, raising his eyebrows and Hermione realise he was putting the decision to her.

"China," she told him, "I've already been to Australia."

"Two tickets to China, please," Draco told the witch before handing over the right money.

Pulling her into the station, Hermione was laughing as they waited for the portkey. The rest of the day followed much the same pattern. She ran a length of the Great Wall of China and Draco had to drag her through the Forbidden City when she tried to stop and read everything – poorly, thanks to her very loose grasp on Mandarin. She added two new charms for both places to her bracelet before they had lunch.

Draco also paid a guide to let them see Pandas in their natural habitat after lunch and Hermione got a good shot of him when they went by the Chinese Dragon Sanctuary, holding a baby Chinese Fireball and nearly losing his eyebrows when the adorable little thing sneezed. Hermione actually did lose a chunk of her hair when she held one of the baby dragons, and Malfoy had managed to capture the shot perfectly to include her smile as she held the tiny reptile before her expression of surprise as it spat fire on her and her horror when she saw what became of her hair as result.

After that Draco had insisted on a dragon charm for the bracelet and he'd laughed the whole time while she had her hair cut to accommodate for the three inches worth of length the Fireball had robbed her of.

"It's kind of cute that length, actually," he told her when they'd popped over to Japan and swum with Giant Koi fish. He'd just bought her a koi-fish charm and Hermione blinked when she turned to him, finding him inside her personal space, his fingers coming up to tangle in the damp and unruly curls that now only just brushed her jaw rather than reaching beyond her shoulders.

She didn't scold him for the lie, knowing he was probably just trying to make her feel better. She also couldn't unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth, his hands curled over her ears and toying with the curls while they waited in line for their sushi order – which he'd insisted on trying. He watched her almost affectionately as she pouted about her hair.

"Oh, our sushi's ready," she said when he looked like he was about to lean in and kiss her.

He smirked as though he sensed her nervousness before he released her and turned to collect their sushi from the chef who'd been making it for them. He handed her some and Hermione bit into it automatically, her heart fluttering in her chest. She chewed mechanically before the taste and the texture of the food really hit her.

"Urgh!" she groaned, making a face and handing the sushi back to Draco before reaching for a napkin so she could spit it out, "That's disgusting!"

Malfoy was already on his second sushi roll and looked to be enjoying it immensely. So much so that he polished off her half-eaten one as well without even making a face about the fact that she'd chewed on it.

"What are you talking about? It's good," he argued with her, licking his fingers clean and smirking at her while Hermione tried not to gag on the flavour before resorting to buying herself a jasmine tea to wash away the horrid fishy taste.

"That was the foulest thing I've ever put in my mouth," she informed him primly. His expression suggested he could think of other, Weasley related things that she might've had in her mouth that were nastier.

"I bet you crave this when you're pregnant," he replied instead.

"Even if I do, I won't be eating it. Sushi is primarily uncooked fish, which can be toxic to unborn children," she retorted.

"You know everything, don't you?" he asked suddenly, "You're not even pregnant, and hadn't thought to be until a few days ago, but you already know all about the condition and what you should and shouldn't do."

"That's not true," Hermione argued rolling her eyes impatiently when Malfoy decided he wanted more sushi before taking her to the Jigokudani Monkey Park, "I actually know very little about pregnancy. Other than what the healer told me the other day. It hasn't exactly been a priority study-topic of mine. Weren't you saying that magical pregnancy is hard on witches? Why?"

Malfoy glanced at her as they moved off with their guide, still eating his sushi.

"You remember when you were a kid and your magic was out of control, ruled by your emotions?" he asked once he'd had a mouthful.

"Of course," she nodded.

"I'm told magical pregnancy brings all that back, only tenfold because in addition to triggering all the usual hormonal imbalances and things that pregnant women deal with it, there's a magical element. Your magic will go crazy and the baby will make it worse. Generally speaking, the more magically gifted the baby is likely to be, the harder the pregnancy will be on you," Malfoy explained to her, taking the tour guide's arm to let him apparate the three of them to the monkey park.

"Harder…." Hermione whispered to herself, paling at the very idea. Malfoy caught her expression before catching her hand and tugging her towards him a little as he led her over towards hot springs where the monkeys were. Hermione squeaked in surprise when she reached the railing and Draco moved around behind her, putting his arms around her waist and watching the monkeys over her shoulder. She realised he was doing it both as a reassurance and to keep her warm in the cold snowy mountain landscape.

"We're in for hell, Granger," he told her quietly, his mouth by her ear as he brushed his cheek against hers, "With how magically gift you are alone, you'd be in for hell. Combined with how gifted I am…. This will be the longest nine months of your life and you'll most likely never want to do it again after the first kid."

Hermione shivered in his hold at the very idea, a pit of nervous dread opening up inside her stomach at the very idea. She didn't know if it was entirely from the fear of being pregnant and suffering terribly for it, or if it was merely his close proximity as she essentially hugged her from behind.

"How bad?" she asked, "Give me an example?"

"I'll be keeping all sharp objects away from you," he told her seriously, "You'll most likely flip out at nothing all the time. The usual instability of hormones in pregnant women is, I'm told, rather frightening. But when that is coupled with magical wielding ability, it's actually a dangerous situation. There's a reason the ratio of magical to muggle population numbers are so low. We're simply rarer because the pregnancies are harder. The statistics of miscarriage are higher as well. People simply don't risk it very often. It's why so many among the magical community are childless. Conceiving is hard enough, keeping the baby to term even harder. And I'm told that by the third trimester witches are often so irrational about things that some have to be sedated and kept secluded for their own safety and that of others."

"You think that will happen to me?" Hermione asked him, fearful now.

"It's possible. No one can really predict how a magical pregnancy will play out. The only thing I know for sure is that, generally speaking, the more stable the witch during the pregnancy, the more likely it is that the kid will be a Squib or not very magically gifted," Malfoy told her.

Hermione had a terrible sense that he knew that because some of his ancestors had learned it the hard way and that everyone since then had practiced less than savoury dealings to avoid such an embarrassing occurrence in such a pure bloodline.

"And if my pregnancy is run-of-the-mill dull?" Hermione asked him quietly.

"Don't take that tone with me Granger," he told her harshly, "It's highly unlikely that two such powerful magic users would throw a Squib, but _if_ that were the case, we would simply deal with it. I'm not going to force abortion on you or anything so barbaric."

Hermione relaxed minutely in his hold, her attention on the monkeys before them as they played in the water, soaking in the steaming springs. She blinked when the flash of a camera went off and Hermione smiled when their guide came over, handing her a picture of the two of them, dressed inappropriately for the snowy weather, Draco's arms wrapped around her and pressing her into his chest. From an outside point of view they looked like a happy young couple in love and on their honeymoon.

Smiling at the picture, Hermione tucked it into her bag alongside the rest of them. She would need to by an album wherever they went next so she could begin storing the pictures they'd taken and captioning them appropriately with where they were. Mostly, Hermione knew, they were each taking this trip together for the selfish notion of living life thoroughly and experiencing things they wouldn't otherwise when they had a child together, but she still wanted to compile an album of the trip.

One day she might be able to show it to their child.


	12. 12: Hotel Hostilities

**A/N: What? It's only been eighteen months since the last update, shut up! *throws the chapter at you and scrambles behind the couch***

 **xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Give Unto Me**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Hotel Hostilities**

* * *

By the time they checked into a hotel that night, Hermione didn't even care about the funny looks that the clerk gave them. She was tired and her cramps had kicked in again, her stomach aching dully.

"Where are we, again?" she asked of Draco when he pulled her by the hand into an elevator and pushed the button to take them to the room he'd booked for them.

"Germany," he replied, also sounding tired. It had been a long time since breakfast that morning and Hermione couldn't even count how many countries they'd seen.

"It's lucky you bought that camera," she told him, not even thinking about it as she turned into him and rested her forehead against the middle of his chest, closing her eyes and trying to think straight. "I'm losing track of the number of countries we've seen so far."

"Thirteen," he replied and Hermione felt him drop an absent-minded kiss to the top of her unruly curls. "You're going to need another bracelet at this rate."

Hermione smiled, her fingers fiddling with the many charms hanging from the bracelet he'd purchased for her.

"Are you having fun, at least?" she asked him quietly.

"I am, actually. And you?"

Hermione nodded without lifting her head from his chest.

"Where did you even think of all these things to do? I've wanted to travel the world since I was a girl, but even I hadn't planned anything so inclusive."

"I had a lot of free time as a child," Malfoy answered. "I was allowed to go anywhere I liked, as long as there was a five star hotel where Mother and Father could stay and where they could be seen visiting. I had to learn to distinguish between what was and was not an acceptable holiday destination."

"And you've been taking me to all the ones you didn't get to see as a boy?" Hermione asked, smiling a little without lifting her head.

"Most of them," he drawled back. "A few of them are things I've done before, but I thought you'd enjoy."

Hermione was touched by the sentiment, surprised to find he was actually thinking about her wants and needs. If she was being honest, she'd had a wonderful day with him. He was surprisingly easy to travel with. Whether it was because he had the money to get them the best views, or because he was actually decent company, she couldn't be sure. She'd never imagined she'd enjoy his company, but throughout the day, it'd begun to feel like he was actually her friend. To think that just last week she'd have pitched herself from the Astronomy Tower rather than considering ever jumping into bed with him amused her immensely and Hermione frowned against his chest as she recalled that all too soon she was literally going to have to spread her legs and let him get as close as any two people could.

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione said quietly. She lifted her head from his chest, noticing that his eyes were a little bloodshot, giving away his exhaustion. "You're… making this entire situation a lot less awkward and a lot easier to deal with."

"The perks of being rich, Granger," he grinned.

"Maybe," she nodded, biting her bottom lip. "I just… I was really worried that this would be awkward and you'd be terribly rude and petty and childish like you were in our younger years and so… thank you."

"I was only ever rude and petty and childish because I had a reputation to maintain," he frowned at her in return. "Do you remember when we first arrived at Hogwarts and I introduced myself to Potter?"

"How could I forget?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You were horrible to Ron about his tatty clothes and thought Harry would immediately turn on the only friend he'd ever been able to make."

"He refused to shake my hand and didn't want to be my friend," Draco nodded. "Father had given me express instructions to befriend Potter and to try and sway him into being sorted into Slytherin. He thought that a boy who'd managed to defeat the Dark Lord as a tiny baby would be all-powerful and he'd daydreamed about the power we would wield when Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, came to the Manor every Christmas. I was punished for failing. I was punished all the time because of you three, actually.

"Father loathed that a muggleborn like you could consistently outdo someone of my magical pedigree in the classroom. He loathed that Potter and Weasley so often got the best of me, Crabbe and Goyle. He loathed that I had failed to bring him the power and prestige he'd imagined he would get raising Potter as a pseudo son alongside me. And when Potter kept defeating the Dark Lord in his attempts to return every other year, it only compounded on my father's belief that he must be very powerful, and that made him all the angrier with me.

"And so I was rotten to the three of you to make myself look better, and to make myself feel better. You have no idea how often I plotted your demise when you'd outdo me with your grades in class and I'd have to go home and face Father while he clucked his tongue and lectured me on how I was letting down the family and a pathetic excuse for a wizard."

"You were only ever a percentile of a grade behind me," Hermione frowned at him.

"And I heard about it constantly," Draco sighed. "Mine was _not_ a thrilling adolescence, Granger."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I'd apologise, but I'm not sorry," she said. "I liked doing well, and you were a wretched little sod."

"Yeah, well this wretched little sod is going to be your lifeline while you're homicidal and carrying my son or daughter to term. Forgive me for trying to mend bridges and forge a relationship with you that might penetrate your pregnancy induced rage should I fail to bring you pickles in a timely manner just long enough to keep you from murdering me and rendering our child fatherless."

"It won't be that bad," she rolled her eyes.

"You better hope it is," he muttered. "I might not be barmy enough to suggest termination if it's not, but I guarantee that you _don't_ want the shame or the heartache of raising a Squib, Granger."

"There's nothing wrong with Squibs," Hermione narrowed her eyes on him. "They're me, in reverse. My parents would've preferred a perfectly normal, non-magic child, but they got me. And if they hadn't the world might look very different right now."

"It might," he conceded. "But being muggleborn and being a Squib are very different. For you, it was a life of secrets and thrilling adventures. You were the girl who got to go to a school no one else in your family had heard of. You got to see unicorns and mermaids and dragons. It was all something out of a muggle fairtytale, yeah? And if you'd decided you didn't like the magical world, you'd have had the choice to return to the muggle world and seamlessly blend into that side of your heritage."

Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing that was true.

"Being a Squib isn't like that, Granger. Being a squib is being born into a world where you know both the magical and muggle worlds exist, where you're exposed to all the same elements, but you can only ever be a part of the boring one. A squib is someone cursed with having no access to magic of their own, but born to a family who is magical. Imagine, for a minute, if the Weasley's had birthed a squib," he said quietly. "Think of everything you know about Weasley and his ineptitude with the muggle world, and you tell me if a child born to his family wouldn't have suffered, knowing that his siblings were all magical and didn't know how to use a telephone or the Tube. That is the life they're relegated to. Slipping through the cracks of both worlds because they're born to one they can't belong in, and most often left to try and fend for themselves in one they don't understand and have never grasped. A Squib child isn't just left on the doorstep of the muggle orphanages. Most children begin expressing signs of magic early, but some don't until they're eight on even ten. Until that time they'd be raised in the magical world, promised that they'd go to Hogwarts, promised it would all be okay, raised with the knowledge that Floo was the only type of call they'd ever make. Most magical households don't even have electricity, Granger. Squibs suffer because they don't learn until their teenage years how to navigate the muggle world, and even then, they do it poorly."

"Some manage," Hermione frowned, thinking of Mrs Figg and Mr Filch.

"Filch?" he guessed. "Yeah, because he isn't basically slaving away in a position that someone magical could do in a quarter of the time with a flick of his wand. He puts up with rude little brats stuffing gum in the locks and traipsing mud on his freshly mopped floor. That job is the most patronising form of labour for any Squib. Forced into a school where ungrateful shits like Potter and Weasley can't be bothered to do their homework and learn the right spells while he's forced to watch, aching for the chance to be magical and to learn, too, but instead forced to clean up after those same ungrateful shits."

"Not all of them live that way. Mrs Figg doesn't. She lives in the muggle world. She breeds Kneazles, mostly, but she fits in alright."

"She's a crazy-cat lady by muggle standards," Draco corrected.

"Well it's not like there's some solution," Hermione argued with him as the elevator reached their floor – the penthouse suite, apparently. "We can't just…"

"Yeah, actually, we can, and we do," Draco said grimly. "It's considered an embarrassment to birth a Squib, Granger. Most of the families I know were raised with the belief that you don't suffer a Squib to live. Parents who birth one quietly have the problem handled. How they do it is up to them. Some abandon them. Some kill them. More than a few of the purebloods I grew up with had a sibling that 'mysteriously disappeared' when no magic had manifested itself by age ten. It happens more than you'd think. Now, in families like yours, or Potter's, it's no big deal. If the kid has no magic you pass them off to a non-magic relative and they still learn how to be people in their muggle world. But families like mine? Granger, I don't even _know_ anyone who's a muggle. What would I do with a non-magic kid?"

"Make an effort?" Hermione suggested. "The muggle world isn't that complicated. My parents made an effort to understand the magical world when I got my letter. Why don't magical families do the same? Learn to understand the currency, and the Tube system, and electricity, and telephones. Learn about the world the person you've created must inhabit. Surely some do?"

Draco's mouth twisted. "Some do," he agreed quietly. "Just… not anyone I know. People tend to resent it, actually. It's a double-edged blade. On the one hand you keep your Squib kid happy and keep them in your life, but if they've got magical siblings, they might resent the extra effort a parent would go to for the Squib – someone who can't even do magic."

Hermione supposed that could be true, too.

"So the answer is murder?"

"It has been so far," Draco shrugged, setting down their things and picking up the room service menu.

"I won't let you abandon our kid if it comes out a Squib, Malfoy."

"I know," he answered, his eyes lifting from the menu to meet her gaze. "In the unlikely event that such a thing happened and we conceived one, we'd learn to live with it. But that's mostly because _you_ have a grasp of the muggle world. Imagine me stuck with someone like Pansy or Daphne. None of us would even know where to begin to teach that kid about a world we've never set foot in."

"Why aren't there procedures in place for this kind of thing?" Hermione frowned, putting her hands on her hips. "Surely someone would've thought before now that, hey, maybe if we set up an education system to help normalise squibs and magical folk to the muggle world, it wouldn't be such a terrible occurrence for anyone involved if a child is born without magic. There should be a school where squibs learn muggle subjects and those magical ones that they can put to use. There should be a way for them to fit into both worlds – to have the best of either worlds rather than being shunted out of one and into another, or suffering in one they're too scared to leave."

"Why do I suddenly have the feeling that you're going to make it your life's mission to fix that oversight?" Draco asked, frowning at her.

"Because I am."

"This is the House Elf thing all over again, Granger. Some people can't be helped. Some people don't _want_ to be helped."

"You're saying people would _prefer_ to murder their children than help them grow up with a well-rounded education and a family that loves them?" Hermione demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm saying that families like mine consider it the height of embarrassment for a magical bloodline to produce a non-magical child. It's shameful and scorned over and we're a society that very much cares for the opinions of our peers. Even if you built such a school, you'd never help purebloods from prejudice families. They would still prefer to quietly do away with their mistake than let it be known they'd produced something so shameful."

"It's not shameful."

"It is," Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking away from her fierce expression. "It's shameful, Granger. In an instant where, say, you and I produced one, it's be scorned over quietly by a few, but most families would make an allowance for it because you're muggleborn and the muggle gene is more readily available in your DNA to be passed on. In pureblood matches it means that someone's lying about their heritage and their purity, or it means that as a couple that pair are not magically connected. Marriages have been dissolved over Squibs, Granger. It's a huge deal to some people and nothing you do will ever change that. It might improve things for thousands of kids and their families, but there will still be some who will not take the help you offer. And there will be some who'll resent you for it."

"Your Mother and Father among them, no doubt," Hermione said bitterly.

"Potentially," Draco nodded. "Father, especially, would not take kindly to anyone willingly associating with Squibs. Of course, when he was last lucid he also disdained those who'd ever even interacted with muggles, so while he's fine example, it's probably radical to base the opinions of the many on my Father, alone."

"But he and your mother would not approve the mother of _your_ child willingly associating with squibs."

Draco shook his head. "They might learn to tolerate you, and might even begrudgingly accept that your parents, should their memories be restored, can be a part of the child's life. But they will not like the idea of pushing those limits much further."

"You realise I plan to send our child to both the magical and muggle elementary schools, yes?" Hermione asked him.

Draco sighed. "I suspected you might suggest it. I had a lot of time to contemplate the types of changes I'd be forced to make when you woke and we had to get on with producing an heir for the sake of upholding our contracts."

"Do you object?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "Send the kid wherever you want, Granger. If he's as bright as you, you'll end up home-schooling when he outshines the ordinary educational systems in place to teach him."

"And if he or she is as dim-witted as a troll?" Hermione challenged.

"I grew up with Crabbe and Goyle, Granger," he smirked at her. "I know how to use small words. Do you want the pasta or the fish and chips?"

"How can you be thinking about food during a discussion like this?" she demanded.

"How can you not?" he raised his eyebrows. "We barely had anything since that sushi this afternoon. Actually, I wonder if they do sushi here."

Hermione shook her head as he moved over the fireplace and placed a Floo call to the Room Service staff to find out if he could have sushi.

"I'm going to wash," she sighed, realising he had no futher intentions of continuing their discussion this evening.

"Get the water hot, I'll join you," he called over his shoulder absently.

"You'll do no such thing," Hermione scoffed, stopping in her tracks and turning back to glare at him, finding him humming happily to know that though it wasn't on the menu, the chef would be making him sushi for dinner.

"When are you going to remember that four days from now I'll be shooting you full or my spawn, witch?" he raised his eyebrows. "I'll be an awfully awkward sexathalon if you're still blushing over the idea that I might see your bum."

"You're never going to say the word sexathalon to me again, Malfoy," Hermione commanded.

Malfoy smirked.

"You can't tell me what to do, Granger. If I want to refer to the notion of shagging you silly for a week straight as a sexathalon, then I bloody well will."

"You won't if you actually hope to be in the bed with me at the time of conception," Hermione huffed.

"Just admit that you want to shag me right now and stop huffing about it, witch," he rolled his eyes. "Are we showering, or not?"

" _I'm_ showering. You can stay here and wait for your thrice cursed sushi to arrive."

"They'll take ages. They have to go to the market for the right ingredients. There's plenty of time for me to seduce you in the shower."

"I'm not showering with you."

"Have you always been a prude?" he wanted to know.

Hermione huffed at him again. "I'm not a prude. I'm a realist. And in the real world people don't just climb into the shower together when they barely know each other."

"Of course they do. It's called a one night stand. Complete strangers shag like bunnies without even getting each other's names. They take their jollies and never speak or see each other again."

"You and I aren't strangers," Hermione pointed out.

"All the more reason," he shrugged.

"You _want_ to show with me?"

"For such a bright witch, you seem to be having real trouble grasping the notion that in four days your body will be receptive to pregnancy. I plan to fuck a kid into you, Granger. And the minute I do, your body is going to change. You'll get fat. You'll get emotional, you'll have puffy ankles and a hairy snatch because your belly will get so big with the kid that you won't be able to see your feet, let alone manoeuver your wand around down there to maintain any kind of grooming ritual. You'll be a right stroppy cow _all_ the time, rather than just most of the time like you are now, and I'll be the one bearing the brunt of it all, suffering your bad moods and your homicidal tendencies and the explosions of random magic and explosions of tears and seeing to the cravings that might literally kill you if I let you have them, and might kill me if I don't. Excuse me if I'd like to enjoy the sight of your body as you are now, before all that mess, so that I'll have something decent to fantasize about when I want to wring your scrawny neck."

Hermione blinked in shock at his diatribe, folding her arms over her chest defensively and not at all liking the sound of any of those things.

"You're an arse," she informed him, unable to think of anything else to say.

"You'll get used to me," he promised, smirking that wretched bloody smirk of his that so irked her. "Now, about that shower…."

Hermione made a noise of frustration at his apparently one track mind before throwing up her hands and stomping into the bathroom without looking back to see whether or not he dared to follow her.


End file.
